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THE TALISMAN, &o.

> *

m

"m

'3).';:ji- ■■»

WAVERLEY NOVELb.

ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY EDITION,

THE TALISMAN; THE TWO DROVERS;

MY AUNT MARGARETS MIRROR;

THE TAPESTRIED CHAMBER;

THE LAIRD'S JOCK.

TWO VOLUMES IN ONE.

BOSTON:

• •

• • • •

■ *

FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO.,

SUCCESSORS TO TICKNOR AND FIELDS.
1869.

V

\'\

654587

University Press:

Wblch, Bigelow, and Company,

Cambridge.

•■ •

• •

,••

The " Betrothed " did not greallj pkase odc or tiro
fiiends, who tbought that il did Dot nell {nrrespond to
the general title of " The Cnisadere." Thej- argwl,
therefore, that, wittMut direct allusioa to the mnnners of
the Eastern tribes, and fo the romiintic cooflicii of the
period, the title of a " Talt of the Crusaders " would re-
sembk ihe playbill which is s^d lo hare annonared the
tragedy of Hamlet, the character of the Prince of Di-n-
mark being left out On the other hand, 1 felt the diffi-
culty of giving a ririd picture of a part of the worid with
which I waa almost totally unacquainted, unless by eariy
recolleciioas of ihe Arabian Nights' Enicrtainnients ; and
no[ only did I labour under iLc incapacity of in^norance,
in which, aa far as regards Eastern manner^ I was as
thii^kly wrapped as an Egyptian in his log ; but tny con-
temporaries were, many of them, as much enlightened
upon the subject, as if they had been inhabilani: of llw<
fiiToured land of Goshen. The love of Iravelling luul
pervaded all rank?, and carried the subjecls of Brilaia
into all quarters of ihe world. Greece, so atlractire bj
its remains of art, by ita struggles for freadom a^inst a

Mahometan tyrant, by its very name, where every foun
taiii had its classical legwid ; — Palestine, endeared to thi
imagination by yet more sacred remembmnces, had heen
of late Burveyed by British eyes, and described by recent
travellers. Had I, therefore, attempted the difficult (ask
of substituting manners of my own invention, instead of
the genuine costume of the East, almost every traveller
I met, who had extended his route beyond what was an-
ciently called "The Grand Tour," had acquired a right,
by ocular iospection, to chastise me for ray presumption.
Every member of the Travellers' Club, who could pre-
tend to have thrown his shoe over Edom, was, by having
done so, constituted my lawful critic and corrector. It
occurred, therefore, that where the autho;
as well aa he of Hadji Baba, had described the
and vices of the Eastern nations, not only with fidelity,
but with the humour of Le Sage and the ludicrous power
of Fielding himself, one who was a perfect stranger to the
subject must necessarily produce an unfavourable con-
trast. The Poet Laureate also, in the charming tale of
" Thalaba," had shown how extensive might be the re-
searches of a per-on of acquiieraenta and talent, by dint
of investigation alone, into the ancient doctrines, history,
and manners of the Eastern countries, in which we are
piobably to look for the cradle of mankind ; Moore, in
his " Lallah Rookh," had succtssfully Irod the same
path , in which, too, Byron, joining ocular experience to
extensive reading, had written some of Ins most attractive
poems. In a word, the Eastern themes had been already
60 successfully handled by those who were acknowledged
to be masters of their craft, that I was diffideat of making
the attempt.
These were powerful objectioas, nor did they lose force

INTBODnCTIOK TO THE TALIBlUtf. 7

wfien ihey beRame the subject of anxious refieclion,
allhough (liey did not finally prevail. Tbe ai-guments on
the other side were, that though I had no bope of rivalling
the coutemponiries whom I liai'e mentioned, yel it occur-
red to me as possible to acquit myself of the ta^k I was
engaged in, without entering into conipelition with them.
The period relating more immediately to the Crusadea
wbicb I at last fiiced upon, was that at which the warlike
character of Kichnrd L, wild and generous, a patlem of
chivalry, with all its eitravagnnt virtues, and its no less
absurd errors, was opposed to that of Saladin, in which
the Christian and English monarch .showed all the cruelly
and violence of an Eastern sultan ; and Saladin, on the
other hand, displayed the deep policy and prudence of a
European Bovereigo, whilst cacb contended which should
excel Ihe other in the knigblly qualities of bravery und
generosity. This singular contrast afforded, as the author
conceived, materials for a work of fiction, possessing pe-
cntiar interest. One of (tie inferior characters introduced,
was a supposed relation of Richard Cceur de Lion ; a vio-
lation of the truth of history, which gave offence to Mr.
MiDs, the Author of the History of Cliivalry and the
Crusades, who was not, it may be presumed, aware that
; fiction naturally includes the power of such
which is indeed one of the requisites ;f the

Prince David of Scotland, who was actually in the host,
and was the hero of some very roraaotic adventures on hia
way home, was also pressed into my service, and consli-
(uIl-s one of my dramatis personm.

It is trtie I had already brought upon the field Him of
the Lion Heart. But it was in a more private cnpacity
than be was here to be exhibited in tbe Talisman ; then

WATEBLEY tTDYEXa.

as a disguLsed knight, now in the avowed character of a
conquering monnrch ; eo that I donbted not a name so
dear to Englishmen as that of King Richard I. might
contribute fo their amusement for more than once.

I had access to all which antiquity believed, whether
of reality or fable, on the suhject of that magoiliccnt
warrior, who was the proudest boast of Europe and their
chivalry, and with whose dreadful name the Saracens,
according to a historian of their own country, were wont
lo rebuke their startled horses. " Do you think," gaid
they, " that King Richard is on the track, that you stray
6o wildly from it!" The most curious register of the
history of King Richard, is an ancient romance, trans-
lated originally from the Norman ; and at first certainly
having a pretence lo be termed a work of chivaliy, but
latterly becoming stuffed with llie most astonishing and
monstrous fables. There is perhaps no metrical romance
upon record, where, along with curious and genuine his-
tory, ai-e mingled more absurd and exaggerated incidents.
We have placed in the Appendix to this Introduction,
(p. 15,) the passage of the romance in which Richard
figures as an Ogre, or lifeml cannibal.

A principal incident in the story, is that from which
the title is derived. Of all people who ever lived, the
Persians were perhaps most remarkable for their un-
shaken credulity in aniulets, spells, periapts, and similar
charms, framed, it was said, under the influence of partic-
ular planets, and bestowing high medical powers, as well
as the means of advancing men's fortunes in various man-
ners, A story of this kind, relating to a Crusader of
eminence, is often told in the West of Scotland, and the
relic alluded to is still in esisteace, and even yet held in
veneration.

Sir Simon Loekliart of Lee and Cariland marie a coa-
sMerable figure in the reigns of Robert tlie Bruce and
of hia Bon David. He was one of llie chief of iliat band
of Scottish chivahy, who accompanied James, Ilie Good
Lord Douglas, on his expedition lo ibe Holy Laud, with
tte heart of King Robert Bruce. Douglas, impatient lo
get at the Saracens, entered into war with those of Spain,
and was killed there. Lockhart proceeded to Ihe Holy
Land with such Scottish kuighla as had escaped the fate
of their leader, and assisted for some time in the wars
against the Saracens.

The following adventure is said by tradition to havB
befallen him : —

He made prisoner in battle an Emir of considerable
wealth and consequence. The aged mother of the cap-
tive came to the Cliristian camp, to redeem her son from
his slate of captivity. Lockhart is said lo have fixed the
price at which his piisoner shoiiW ransom himself; and
the lady, pulling out a large embroidei-ed purse, proceeded
to tell down the ransom, hke a mother who puj^ little
respect to gold in comparison of her son's liberty. In
this operation, a pebble inserted in a coin, some say of the
Lower Empire, fell out of the purse, and the Saracen
matron testified so much hasle to recover it, as gave the
Scottish knight a high idea of its value, when compared
with gold or silver. " I will not consent," he said, " to
grant your son's liberty, unless 'that amulet be added to
his ransom." The lady not only consented to this, but
explained (o Sir Simon Lockhart the mode in which the
Talisman was to be used, and the uses to which it might
be put The water in which it was dipt, operated as a
styptic, as a febrifuge, and possessed several other prop-
erties as a medical talisman.

WAVKBLET HOTELS.

Sir Sinioti LockharC, after much experience of the
woadera wlijch it wrought, brought it to his own country
and left it to his heii-a, by whom, and by Clydesdale in
general, it was, and is still, distiiiguiahed hy the name of
the Lee-peany, from the name of his native seat of Lee.

The most remarkable part of JCs history, perhaps, waa,
that it so especially escaped condemnation wlieu the
Church of Scotland chose to impeach many olher cures
which savoured of the miraculous, as occasioned l)y
Eorcery, and censured the appeal to them, " excepting
only that to the amulet, called the Lee-penny, to which it
had pleased God to acmex certain healing virtues which
the Church did not presume to condemn." It siill, as lias
been said, exists, and its powere are sometimes reaoited
ta Of late, they have been chiefly restricted to the cure
of persons bitten by mad dogs ; and as the illness in such
cases frequently arises from imagination, there can he no
reason for doubting lliaLwatcr which has been poured on
the Lee-penny, furnishes a congenial cure.*

* The publiahBra are indebted tc
loving oilditionul partlculurs TEgard

"Although the ags of miracles has departed, and the belief !□
saperaiLtoral appearancea been aimoat entirely eradicated, in these
days of the inarch of iatelUcl, still there are who place a kind of faith
in noBtrams and anoh like things ; and, amongst otliera, the Ltt /"enij
hu hod, mid atill liaa, ita votaries, who flrmlj belieTS in its cScacj to
cure all dlesaaes to which man aai beoat nrs subject, piirtloularlj Id
cases nf h j-drnphobiB. Far be it from us to disturb the fjith of thesa
Even the immortal Author of the following pageii thought it not
baneath the dignity of hb mighty genius to take as hia groundwork
tliia Tcry Talisman. It is a stone of a dark red colonr and trinngular
■hapB, and it« size about half an hieh edch side. It is Bet in a piece
of silver coin, now almost entirely defaced, bat from some letters still
remaining, is anpposed to be a shilling of Edward I., the cross, a fow
years ago, having been vary plain, as on that shilling. It Is used by

mtBODCOtiON TO THB TAI.I8MAS.

Such is the tradition concerning the Talisman, which
the author has taken the liherty to varj in applying it to
hia own purposes.

dtpping tlie itane in water, which [9 given to the diseoecd cstlle to
drink, or the penon who hu been blt^ nnd the wound or part Infected
is washed wHb the water, then held to huve a certain healing propert^r
CQinmuuieated, and from drinking which tho patient is restored to
health. There are no words used in the dipping nr the stone. Man^
tnd wondarfiil are the cares asid to hare tmn Avronght by this sln-
gular relic. People came Trom all parts or Scotland, and eien from
ICngliind, to prccare tho water in which it was dipped, to give to theli
cattle when ill with tho murrain and the hlnck-leg. Daring the lime
that Scotland was convulsed with religions lenJ, tlie Talisman dill not
escape the attention of the Chnrch, a complaint hating been made to
the Ecclesiastical Courts against the Laird of Lee, then Sir James
Lockhorl, for using witohcrafl:. The Act of tho Synod and Assembly,
held at Glasgow, gave deliverance In the matter, as pretty llluatraliva
of the extent to which Chnrch dlieipUne va» carried io those days;
and in what a degree of faith the people held the Talisman.* The

• " Caps a/ an Ait ofthi Synod aad AtirmMtt. ipud GlAsgoV}, 2Bi* OciOitr.

''Qnliilk d;e, uQODgMt Ui> nferrhs at tbo bnthera of (hs mlnlnrH Df

lockB had prolbriC toe complaint beHire them ogslnst Sic Jomeg Lockhart at

Asimnblls might be

obo* had herbfls ap^ial ri

"Ml. Roam Tool*- Otaik."

Considerable liberties have also been taken wJlh the
truth of history, both with respect to Conrode of Mont-
Eerrat's life, as well as his deatii. That Conrade, how-

inhabitnnts of Newcastle, when Infected ^Ith the plngne, sent for the
Lee Penny, ajid gmnled a hood for a large sum for its snfe rctam;
Bud Bnch waa their belief in ita virtues, and Ihe good which it dld|
that they oEferad to pay the money, and keep tha Penny. A copy of
thia bond is well known to have beon smong the fsmily pnpcrs. It
would be endless to recount the ninny cui-ei said to haTe been per-
foTmed by iL We may, however, adduce one, nud which is recorded
in the papers of tte family. Abont a century and a-half ago, Lady
Balrd, of Sauchtonhall, near Edinburgh, having been bitten by a mad
dog, vnd Eymptoioaof hydrophobia appearing, great anxiety and alarm
were excited la the miuds of the family. They sent immedietely to
beg the loan of the Lee Penny; on procuiing which, ehe used It for
soma weeks, both drinking and batliiug in Ihe water in which it had
been dijjped. When slie quit* recovered her wonted health, Ibe Laird
ol Lee and his lady were entertained at Sauchtonhall by Lndy Boinl
ajid her hHeband, for many days, in the most sumptuous manner, on
account of her recovery, and in gralituda for the loan of the Penny
It will, donbtlaaa, be thought by some that now it oan only be looked
upon as a mere subject of enriosity; suoh, however, is not the case.
Tlie water is still frequently applied for, and we can vouch for the
fact, by the inhabitants of the different villages nt a considerable dis'
tance from Lee. But the most recent case of which we have hearil,
happened a few months ago, and fully exemplilied the great faith
placed in it even by our southern neighbours, and thoir recollection
of its taJismanic influence upon Che sick and afHIcted. The neigh-
bourhood of Kirkwhelpington and Blrticy, Northumberland, bad beea
subjected to much alarm by the visits of do;^ in a rabid state: no
fewer than seven of these animala were killed. The dread of the
iubabitants was naturally groat, and the injury done excessive, prin-
cipally among the farm stock: the number of sheep and cattle bitten,
and which died of hydrophobia, ia almost incredible. A horse bavlng
bitten a man's hand severely at Gunnerton, the dreadful nature of the
complaint, and the hitherto impossibility of its cure, excited great
alarm in the minds of the people, and a desu^ to resort to any means
whereby lo avert its fatal elfects. In thia state of doubt and anxiety,
they bethought themselves of the Lea Penny in which they slill had
a belief; ard hoped that its waters would eUect what no mortal means
eatild do. Fhe; accordin^y sent express to Lee frr a large quantity

ever, was reckoned the enemy of Richard, is ogrecd both
in history and romance. The generiU opinion of the
terms upon which ihey stood, may be guessed frotn the
proposal of the Saracens, that the Mai'quis of-Moatserrat
should be invested with certain parts of Syria, whick they
were to yield to the Christians. Richard, according to
the romance which bears his name, "could no longer
repress his fury. The Marquis, he said, was a. traitor,
who had robbed the Knights Hospitallers of sixty thou-
sand pounds, the present of his father, Heniy ; that he
was a renegade, whose treachery liad occasioned the loaa
of Acre ; and be concluded by a solemn oath, that he
would cause him to be drawn to pieces by wild horses, it"
he should ever venture to pollute ihe Christian camp by
his presence. Philip attempted to intercede in favour of
the Marquis, and throwing down his glove, offered to
become a pledge for his fidelity to the Christians ; but
his offer was rejected, and he was obliged to give way to
Richard's impetuosity." — Bislory of Chifoiri/,

Conrade of Montserrat makes a considerable figure in
those wars, and was at length put to death by one of the
followers of the Schuik, or Old Man of the Mountain ;
nor did Richard remain free of the suspicion of having
instigated his death.

of the water. The penuin aent, hnring oiriTcd on Sunds]' mombg,
procure i abarrol fnll, and started back imroediiitBlj, with that which
■WHS looked upon as tha only hope for the man labonruig nnder the
complaiot; and, Btrango as it may sBErn, no had effects resulted (Vom
tha wound. The Bceptio may doubt) but we merely state a fact, aud
for tlio nccumoy of wiiich we con vouch. One of the Eogiish neiv9-
pnpBr^ at the time, taking* notice of tiic circumstance, adds, ' The
' spirit of the age" has not yet banished the popular belief in tba
LorkeTkt teater, a. largo supply having heen procured by voluntarj'
■atMoipUon,' " &e.

14 WAVERtBT NOV ALA.

It may be said, in general, that most of the incidents
introduced in the following tale are fictitious ; and that
reality, where it exists, is only retained in the charactert
of the piece^

Abbotsford, Ui Jv^, 1882.

MTHOTyrOTIOK TO THZ IALI3MAN.

APPENDIX TO INTRODUCTION.

While warring id the Holy Land, Eiclmrd was seized
with an ague.

The best leeches of the eamp were unable lo effect the
cure of the King's disease ; but the prayers of the army
wei-e more successful. He became convalescent, and the
first symplom of his recovery was a violent longing for
pork. But pork was not likely to be plentiful in a coun-
try whose inhabilants had an abhorrence for swine's flesh;

" Ihongh iih men should be hanged.

They na might in that countrty,
For gold, no ailver, ae no nion^y,
Ko pork fioil, take, ne get,
' ThBt King Rictird micht anght of eat.
An old kniRht with Kichard hiding,
Wb™ he heard otthat tiding
That the khigii wants wera iwyche,
To the steward he spake privj-liclts-n
■ Our lord the king sore ii sicE, I via,
AHerporck he nionged ia;
Ye may none Hnd to lelle;
Ho man be hardy him bo to telle I
Ifhe did he might die.
Now behoves lo done as I aholl uj.
The" he wete nouglit of that.

and rnt{

Inb:

■e let th

ilain,

Opened, and his akin efTflsyn;
And aoddea full hastily.
With powder and with Bploarj,

16 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

And with saffron of good coloiir.

When the king feels thereof savour,

Out of ague if ho be went,

He shall have thereto good taldut.

When he has a good taste,

And eaten well a good repast,

And supped of the brewis * a sup,

Slept after and swet a drop.

Through Goddis help and my counsail,

Soon he shall be fl-esh and hail.'

The sooth to say, at wordes few,

Slain and sodden was the heathen shrew.

Before the king it was forth brought:

Quod his men, * Lord we have pork sought;

Eates and sups of the brewis soote,t

Thorough grace of God it shall be your boot.

Before King Richard carff a knight.

He ate faster than he carve might.

The king ate the flesh and guew | the bones,

And drank well after for the nonce.

And when he had eaten enough.

His folk hem turned away, and lough.^

He lay still and drew in his arm ;

His chamberlain him wrapped warm,

He lay and slept, and swet a stound,

And became whole and sound.

King Richard clad him and arose.

And walked abouten in the close."

An attack of the Saracens was repelled by Richard in

person, the consequence of which is told in the following

lines:

^ When King Richard had rested a whyle,
A knight his arms *gan unlace.
Him to comfort and solkce.
Him was brought a sop in wine.
* The head of that ilke swine.
That I of ate! * (the cook he bade,)
' For feeble I am, and faint and mad.
Of mine evil now I am fear;
Serve me therewith at my soupere I '

* Broth t Sweet. | Gnawed. § Laughed.

IHTKOPOOTIOS TO TSK TU,ISMAlf.

Quod tho coolt, ' That head I ne hnye/
Then said the kin^ ' So God me bbts,
But I see tha bead of tlial ewiiio,
For sooth, thou sli&lt lesen lliine! '
Tlie cook saw none other ml^t bs;
He let tbe bead aai let him nee.
He Tell on knees, nnd made a cry —
' Lo, hero the head ! my Lord, mercy I ' "

The cook had certainly some reason lo fear that hia
master would be struck with horror at the recollection of
the dreadful banquet to which he owed his recoTeiy, but
his fears were soon dissipated.

" The awarte vis * when the kiDg MCth,
His biack benrd tnd white teeth,
How his lippes grinned wido,

' What devil Ib this?' the king cried.

And i^n to laugh na he nera vodo,

'WbatI is Saracea's flesh thus good?

That, never eret 1 nought wist I

B; God' a death and his uprist,

Shall we never die for defuult,

While wa may in any assnult,

Slee Saracens, the flesh may take,

And leethea and roaeten and do liem bake,

[And] Gnanen her flesh to tbebonea!

Now i liavB it proved OBoe,

For ImiiEer ere I be wo,

I and my folk aball eat ino! "

The besieged now offered to surrender, upon conditiotis
of safety to the inhabitanta ; while all the public treasure,
military machines, and arms, were delivered lo the victors,
togetlier with the further ransom of one hundred thousand
bezants. After this capituhition, the following exti-aordi-
nary scene look place. We Bhail give it in the words of
Ihe humorous and amiable George Ellis, the collector and
the editor of these Romances.

• Black Ihoe.

IS WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" Though the garrison had faithfully pA:formed the
other articles of their contract, they were unable to
restore the cross, which was not in their possession, and
were therefore treated by the Christians with great
cruelty. Daily reports of their sufferings were carried
to Saladin ; and as many of them were persons of the
highest distinction, that monarch, at the solicitation of
their friends, dispatched an embassy to King Richard
with magnificent presents, which he offered for the ran-
som of the captives. The ambassadors were persons the
most respectable from their age, their rank, and their
eloquence. They delivered their message in terms of
the utmost humility, and without arraigning the justice
of the conqueror in his severe treatment of their country-
men, only solicited a period to that severity, laying at his
feet the treasures with which they were intrusted, and
pledging themselves and theu' master for the payment of
any farther sums which he might demand as the price of
mercy.

** King Bichard spake with wordes mild,
* The gold to take, God me shield !
Among you partes * every charge,
I brought in shippes and in barge,
More gold and silver with me,
Than has your lord, and swilke three.
To his treasure have I no need !
But for my love I you bid.
To meet with me that ye dwell ;
And afterward I shall you tell.
Thorough counsel I shall you answer.
What bode f ye shall to your lord bear.'

" The invitation was gratefully accepted. Richard, in
the mean time, gave secret orders to his marshal that he
should repair to the prison, select a certain humber of

♦ Divide. f Message.

THE TALISMAK, IQ

the most distinguished captives, and, after carefullj noting
their names on a roll of parchment, cause their heads to
be instanlly struck off; that these heads should be de-
livered to the cooli with instructions to clear away the
hair, and, after boiling them in a caldron, to distribute
them on several platters, one to each guest, observing to
fasten on the forehead of each the piece of parchment
expressing the name and family of the victim.

"This horrible order was pnncfually executed. At
noon the guests were summoned lo waah hy the music of
the waits ; the king took his seat, attended by tlie princi-
pal officers of his court, at the high table, and the rest of
the company were marshalled at a long table below him.
On the cloth were placed portions of salt at the usual
distances, but neither bread, wine, nor water. The am-
bassadors, rather surprised ot this omission, but still free
from apprehension, awaited in silence the arrival of the
dinner, which was announced by the sounds of pipes,
trumpets, and labours ; and beheld, with horror and dis-
may, the unnatural banquet introduced by the steward
and his officers. Yet their sentiments of disgust and
abborrcnee, and even their fears, were for a time sus-
pended by their curiosity. Their eyes were fixed on the
king, who, without the slightest change of comilenance,
swallowed the morsels as fast as they could be supplied
by the knight who carved (hem.

" Every man then pokod ottier;
Thoy Boid, ' This ia the liarii'a brother,
Ttiat ilayi our msD, and thai heir eatiJ '

20 WAVERLET NOVELS.

" Their attention was then involuntarily fixed on the
smoking heads before them ; they traced in the swollen
and distorted features the resemblance of a friend or near
relation, and received from the fatal scroll which accom-
panied each dish the sad assurance that this resemblance
was not imaginary. They sat in torpid silence, antici-
pating their own fate in that of their countrymen, while
their ferocious entertainer, with fury in his eyes, but with
courtesy on his lips, insulted them by frequent invitations
to merriment. At length this first course was removed,
and its place supplied by venison, cranes, and other dain-
ties, accompanied by the richest wines. The king then
apologized to them for what had passed, which he attri-
buted to his ignorance of their taste ; and assured them
of his religious respect for their character as ambassadors,
and of his readiness to grant them a safe-conduct for their
return. This boon was all that they now wished to
claim; and

" King Bichard spake to an old man,
* Wendes home to your Soudan I
His melancholy that ye abate;
And sayes that ye came too late.
Too slowly was your time y-guessed;
Ere ye came, the flesh was dressed,
That men shoulden serve with me,
Thus at noon, and my meynie.
Say him, it shall him nought avail.
Though he for-bar us our vitail,
Bread, wine, fish, flesh, salmon and conger;
Of us none shall die with hunger,
"While we may wenden to fight.
And slay the Saracens downright,
Wash the flesh, and roast the head.
With 00 * Saracen I may well feed
Well a nine or a ten
Of my good Christian men.

•OB0.

niBODOonox to tsb talisiuji.

Eag Richaid AtS wamnt,
Tfasn is no Sesh so munMant
UnU an English DUitt,
Pmrid^ ploTcr, teron, ne imB,
Cow ne OE, (hMp oc utidb.
As lite h«d or> Ssisztd.
There he 'a fit, and thereto teniJer,
And my Tnen be letui and klender*
While inj SnniceD quick be,
LlTUid now in this Syria,
For meat will we notliing can.
Abonten bit ne ihaii fare.
And erery day «e dipll eat
All Ml maoy Ka we may gsC
To England will we nought gon.
Till the; be eaten every one.' "

Eljjs'e Eptdmtni of Early EngliA Melrlcel
Banaitca, vol. li. p. 230.

The reader may be corioua lo know owing to what oir-
GDinstancea »] exlraordinary an invention as ihal which
imputed cannibalisDi lo the King of England, should have
found its way into his history. Mr. James, to wliom wa
owe so much that is curious, geems to hava traced the
origin of this extraordinary rumour.

" With the army of the cross also was a multitude of
men," the same author declares, " who made it a profes-
eioQ to be without money ; they walked barefoot, earried
no arms, and even preceded the beasts of burden in their
march, living upon roots and herbs, and presenting a spec-
tacle both disgusting and pitiable.

"A Norman, who, according to all accounts, was of
noble birth, but who, having lost his horse, C(nitinued to
follow as a foot soldier, took the strange resolution of put-
ting himself at the head of this race of vagabonds, who
willingly received him as their king. Amongst Ibe Sar-
acens these men became well known under the name cf

WAVERLET NOVELS.

r, (which Guibert translales Tradenles,) and were
beheld with great horror, from the general persuasion
that they fed on the dead bodies of their enemies ; a re-
port which was occasionally justified, and which the King
of the Thafura took care to encourage. This respectable
monarch was frequently in the habit of slopping his fol-
lowers, one by one, in a narrow defile, and of causing
them to be searched carefully, lest the possession of flie
least sum of money should render them unwoj-tliy of the
name of hia subjects. If even two sous were found upon
any one, he was instantly expelled the society of hia
tribe, the king bidding him contemptuously buy arms and
fight.

" This troop, so far from being cumbersome to the
army, was infinitely seryioeable, carrying burdens, bring-
ing in foi'age, provisions, and tribute ; working the ma-
chines in the sieges, and, above all, spreading consterna-
tion among the Turks, who feared death from the lances
of the knighis less than (hat farther consummation they
heard of under the leeth of the Thafurs." •

It is easy to conceive, that an ignorant minstrel, finding
the taste and ferocity of the Thafura commemorated in
the historical accounts of the Holy Wai's, has ascribed
their practices and propensities to the Monarch of Eng-
land, whose ferocity was considered as an object of exag-
geration as legitimate as his valour.

Adeotsfohd, litJuli), 1S32.

• Jamea's Histcdy of Chivalry, p. ITS.

b

THE TALISMAN.

CHAPTER I.

The burning sun of Syriu^ had aot yet attained iU
liigbest point in the horizon, when a knight of the Red-
croaa, who had left bis distant northern home, and joined
the b(«t of the Crusadera in Palestine, was pacing slowlj
along the sandy deserts wliicli lie in tlie vicinity of the
Dead Sea, or, as it is called, the Lake Asphaltites, where

24 WATEKLET HOTELS.

the waves of the Jordan pour themselves into au inlaDii
Bea, from which there is no discharge of waters.

The wartiie pilgrim had toiled among cliffs and preci-
pices during the earlier part of the morning ( more lately,
issuing from those rocky and dangerous defiles, he had
entered npon that great plain, tvhere the accui'sed cities
provoked, m ancient days, the direct and dreadful ven-
geance of the Omnipotent.

The toil, the thirst, the dangers of the way, were for-
gotten, as the traveller recalled the fearful catastrophe,
which had converted into an arid and dismal wilderness
the fair and fertile valley of Siddim, oace well watered,
even as the Garden of the Lord, now a parched aud
bhghted waste, condemned to eternal sterility.

Crossing himself, as he viewed the dark mass of rolling
waters, in colour as in quality unlike tboae of every other
lake, the traveller shuddered hs he rememhered, thai be-
neath these sluggish waves lay the once proud cities of
the plain, whose grave was dug by the thunder of the
heavens, or the eruption of subterraneous fire, and whose
remains were hid, even by ihat sea which holds no living
fish in its bosom, bears no skiff on its surface, and, as if its
own dreadful bed were the only fit receptacle for its sullen
waters, sends not, like other lakes, a tribute to the ocean.
The. whole land around, as in the days of Mases, was
"brimstone and salt ; it b not sown, nor bearelh, nor any
grass gi-oweth thereon;" the land as well as the lake
might be termed dead, as producing nothing having re-
Gemblance to vegetation, and even the very air was en-
tirely devoid of its ordinary winged inhabitants, deien-ed
probably by the odour of bitumen and sulphur, which the
burning sun exhaled from the waters of the lake, ia
Bteaming clouds, frequently assuming the appearance of

THK TA1.1S1UN.

vaterspouta. Masses of the Blimj and Balphureous sub*
stance called naphtha, which floated idly on the sluggish
and sullen waves, supplied tliose roliing clouds with new
vapours, and afibrded awful testimony to the truth of tlie
Mosaic history.

Upon this scene of desolation ihe sun shone with almost
intolerable splendour, and all living nature seemed to
have hidden itself from the rays, excepting the solitary
figure which moved through the flitting sand at a foot's
pace, and appeared the sole breathing thing on the wide
surface of the plain. The di'ess of the rider and the ac-
coutrements of his horse, were peculiarly unlit for iha
travciler in such a country. A coat of linked mail, with
long sleeves, plated gauntlets, and a steel breastplate, bad
not heea esteemed a sufHcient weight of armour ; there
was also his triangular shield suspended round bis neck,
and his barred helmet of steel, over which he had a hood
and collar of mail, which was drawn around the warrior's
shoulders and throat, and filled up the vacancy iKtween
the hauherk and the headpiece. His lower limbs were
sheathed, like his body, in ficxible mail, securing the legs
and thighs, while the feet rested in plated i^hoes, which
corresponded wilh the gauntlets. A long, broad, straight-
shaped, double-edged falchion, with a handle formed like
a cross, corresponded with a stout poniard, on the other
side. The Knight also bore, secured to his saddle, with
one end resting on his stirrup, the long steeUkeaded lance,
his own proper weapon, which, a« he rode, project«d back-
wards, and displayed its little pennoncelle, to dally with
the faint breeze, or drop in the dead calm. To this cum-
brous equipment must he added a surcoat of embroidered
cloth, much frayed and worn, which was thus far useful,
that it excluded the buroing rays of the bud from Iha

26 WAVERLET NOVELS.

armour, wliith tlicy would otherwise have rendered intol-
erable to llic weurer. The surcoat bore, in several places,
the afms of tlie ownej', although much defaced. These
Beemed to be a couchant leopard, with the motto, " I
Bleep — wake me not." An outline of the same device
might be traced on his shield, though many a blow had
almost effaced the painting. The flat (op of his cum-
brous cylindrical helmet was unadorned with any crest.
In retaining their own unwieldy defensive arraoui", the
nortbem Crusaders seemed to set at defiance the nature
of the climate and country to which they had come to

The accoutrements of the horse were scarcely less mas-
give and unwieldy than those of the rider. The animal
had a heavy saddle plated with steel, uniting Id front
with a species of breastplate, and behind with defensive
armour made to cover tlie loins. Then there was a steel
axe, or hammer, called a mace-of-arms, and which hung
to the saddle-bow ; the reins were secured by chain-work,
and the front-stall of the bridle was a steel plate, with
apertures for the eyes and nostrils, having in the midst a
Bhort sharp pike, projecting fi-om the forehead of the
horse like the born of the fabulous unicorn.

But habit had made the endurance of this load of pan-
oply a second nature, both to the knight and his gallant
charger. Numbers, indeed, of the western warriors wLo
hurried to Palestine, died ere tbey became inured to the
burning climate ; but there were others to whom that cli*
mate became innocent and even friendly, and among this
fortunate number was the solitary horseman who now
traversed the border of the Dead Sea.

Nature, which cast his limbs in a mould of uncommon
Btrength, fitted to wear his linked hauberk with as much

THE 'TAXiaKAV.

27

ease as if the meahes had been formed of cobwebs, had
endowed him with a conatitution as strong as his limbs,
and which hade defiance to aJinost all thaogcs of olimalc,
11 as to fatigue and privatioos of erery kind. Hia
dLpo ti eemed, in some degree, to parlake of ttie
q al ti f his boililj frame ; and as tbe one possessed
^ t Iren th and endurance, united with the power of
vi 1 t X tion, the other, under a calm and undisturbed
. semblance, had much of the fiery and enthusiastic love of
glory which constituted the principal attribute of the re-
nowned Norman line, and had rendered them sovereigns
in every comer of Europe, where they had drawn their
adventurous swords.

It was not, however, to all (lie race that fortune pro-
posed such tempting rewards ; and those obtained by the
solitary knight during two years' campaign in Palestine,
had been only temporal fame, and. as he was taught lo
believe, spiritual privileges. Meantime, his slender slock
of money had melted away, the ralber that he did not
pursue any of the ordinary modes by which the followers
of the Crusade condescended to recruit their diminished
resources, at the expense of the people of Palestine ; he
exacted no giflis from the wretched natives for sparing
their possessions when engaged in warfare with the Sara-
cens, and he had not availed himself of any opportunity
of enriching himself by the ransom of prisoners of conse-
quence. The small train which had followed him from
his native country, had been gradually diminished, as the
means of maintaining them disappeared, and his only re-
maining squire was at present on a sick-bed, and unable
to attend his master, who travelled, as we have seen,
Bingly and alone. This was of little consequence to
the Crusader, who was accustomed to consider his good

28 WAVEKLET NOVELS.

sword as his safest escort, and devout thoughts as hb
best companion.

Nature had, however, her demands for refreshmect and
repose, even on the iron frame and patient disposifion of
the Knight of the Sleeping Leopard ; and at noon, when
the Dead Sea lay at some dislance on his right, he joy-
fully hailed the sight of two or thi'ee palm-trees, which
arose beside the well which was assigned for his mid-day
station. His good horse, too, which had plodded forward
with the steady endurance of his master, now lified hia
head, expanded his nostrils, and quickened his pace, as
if he snuffed afar off the living waters, which marked the
place of repose and refreshment. But labour and danger
were doomed to intervene ere the horse or horseman
reached the desired spot.

As the Knight of the Conchant Leopard continued to
fix hia eyes alfeniively on the yet distant cluster of palm-
trees, it seemed to him as if some object was mo?ing
among them. The distant form separated itself from the
trees, which partly hid its motions, and advanced towards
the knight with a speed which soon showed a mounted
horseman, whom his turban, long spear, and green caftan
floating in the wind, on his nearer approach, showed to
be a Saracen cavalier. " In the desert," saiih an East-
ern proverb, " no man meets a friend." The Crusader
was totally indifferent whether the infidel, who now ap-
proached on his gallant barb, aa if borne on the wings of
an eagle, came as friend or foe — perhaps, aa a vowed
champion of the Cross, he might rather have preferred
the latter. He disengaged his lance from his saddle,
seized it with the right hand, placed it in rest with its
point half elevated, gathered op the reins in the left,
waked his horse's mettle with the spur, and prepared to

THE TALIBSIAM.

encounter the etranger with the calm fielf-confidencc,
belonging to the victof in many contests.

The Saracen came on at the speedy gallop of an Arab
horseman, managing hia steed more by his limb!=, and the
inflection of his body, than by any use of the reins, wliich
hung loose in his left hand ; so that he wai enabled to
wield the light round buckler of the skin of the rhinocerosi,
ornamented with silver loops, which he wore on bis arm,
swinging it as if he meant to oppose ila slender circle to
the formidable thrust of the weatem lance. His own
long spear was not couched or levelled like that of his
antagonist, but grasped by the middle with his right hand,
and brandished at arm's length above bis head. Aa the
cavalier approached his enemy at full career, he seemed
to expect thnt the Knight of the Leopard should put his
borse to the gallop to encounter him. Bitf the Christian
kniglit, well acquainted with the customs of Eastern war-
riors, did not mean to exhaust his good hor^e by any
unnecessary exertion ; and, on the contrary, made a dead
hall, conHdent that if the enemy advanced to the actual
shock, hia own weight, and that of his powerful charger,
would give him sufficient advantage, without the additional
momentum of rapid motion. Equally sensible and appre-
hensive of such a probable result, the Saracen cavalier,
when he had approached towards the Christian within
twice the length of his lance, wheeled hia steed to the left
with inimitable dexterity, and rode twice around his antag-
onist, who, turning without quitting his ground, and pre-
senting his front constantly to his enemy, frustrated his ■
attempts to attack him on an unguarded point; so that
the Saracen, wheeling his horse, was fain to retreat to the
distance of an hundred yards. A second time, like a.
hawk atliicking a heron, the Heathen renewed the charge.

■WAVKBtST K0TBL9.

and a second lime was fain to retreat vrithout coming (o
a close struggle. A third time he approached in the
eaiue manner, nben Ihe Christian knight, desirous to ter-
minate this elusory warfare, in which he might at length
have been worn out by the activity of his foemen, sud-
denly seized the mace which hung at hb saddlebow, and,
wilh a Btrong hand and unerring aim, hurled it against
the head of the Emir, for such and not less his enemy
appeared. The Saracen was just aware of the formida-
ble missile in time to interpose his light buckler betwixt
the mace and his head ; but the violence of the blow
forced the buckler down on his turban, and though that
defence also contributed to deaden its violence, the Sara-
cen was beaten from his horse. Ere the Christian could
avail himself of iIiIb mishap, his nimble foeman sprung
from Ihe grouad, and, calling on his horse, which instantly
returned to his side, he leaped into his seat without touch-
ing the stirrup, and regained all the advantage of which
the Enight of the Leopard hoped to deprive him. But
the latter had in the meanwhile recovered his mace, and
the Eastern cavalier, who remembered the strength and
dexterity with which his antagonist had aimed it, seemed
to keep cautiously out of reach of that weapon, of which
he had so lately felt the force, while be showed his pur*
pose of waging a distant warfare with missile weapons of
his own. Planting his long spear in the sand at a dis-
tance from the scene of combat, he strung, with great
address, a short bow, which he carried at his back, and
putiing bis horse to the gallop, once more described two
or three circles of a wider extent than formerly, in the
course of which he discharged six arrows at the Christian
wjth such unerring skill, that the goodness of his harness
alone saved him from being wounded in as many places.

The seventh shaft apparently found a lesa perfect part of
the armour, and the Christian dropped heaTily from hia
htirse. But what waa the surprise of the Saracen, when,
dismounting to examine the condition of his prostrate
enemy, he found himself suddenly within the grasp of the
European, who had had recourse to this artifice to bring
his enemy within his reach ! Even in thia deadly grap-
ple, the Saracen was sared by bis agility and presence
of mini He unloosed the sword-belt, in which the
Knight of the Leopard had fixed hi» hold, and, thus
eluding his fatal grasp, mounted his horse, which seemed
to watch hia nsotione with the intelligence of a human
being, and again rode o£f^ But in the last encounter the
Saracen had lost his sword and his quiver of arrows, bolh
of which were attached to the girdle, which he was obliged
to abandon. He had also lost bis turban in the struggle.
These disadvantages, seemed to inchne the Moslem la a
truce. He approached the Chrisdan with bis right hand
extended, but no longer in a meuacing attitude.

" There is truce belwist our nations," he said, jn tha
lingua franca commonly used for the purpose of com-
munication with the Crusaders ; " wherefore should there
be war betwixt thee and me ? — Let there be peace be-

" I am well contented," answered ho of the Couchant
Leopard ; " bat what security dost thou ofier that thou
wih observe the truce ? "

" The word of a follower of the Prophet was never
broken," answered the Emir. " It is thou, brave Naza-
reue, from whom I should demand security, did I not
know that treason seldom dwells with courage."

The Crusader felt that the confidence of the Moslem
made him ashamed of his own doubts.

82 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

"By the cross of mj sword," he said, laying his hand
on the weapon as he spoke, ^ I will be true companion to
thee, Saracen, while our fortune wills that we remain in
company together."

" By Mohammed, Prophet of Grod, and by Allah, Grod
ei the Prophet," replied his late foeman, " there is not
treachery in my heart towards thee. And now wend we
to yonder fountain, for the hour of rest is at hand, and
the stream had hardly touched my lip when I was called
to battle by thy^ipproach."

The Knight of the Couchant Leopard yielded a ready
and courteous assent ; and the late foes, without an angry
look, or gesture of doubt, i-ode side by side to the little
duster of palm-trees.

t

CHAPTEE n.

Times of danger have alwaya, and in a peculiar deg^
their seasons of good-will and of security ; and ihia was
particularly so in the ancient feudal ages, in which, as the
manners of the period had assigned war to be the chief
and most worthy occupation of mankind, the intervals of
peace, or rather of truce, were highly relished by those
warriors to whom they were seldom granted, and endeared
by the very circumstances which reudered them transi'
tory. It is not worth while preserving any permanent
enmity against a foe, whom a champion has fought with
to-day, and may again stand in bloody opposition to on
the next morning. The time and siluation afforded so
much room for the ebullition of violent passions, that men,
unless when peculiarly opposed to each other, or provoked
by the recollection of private and individual wrongs,
cheerfully enjoyed in each other's society the brief intei^
vals of pacific intercourse, which a warlike life admitted.

The distinction of religions, nay, the fanatical zeal
which animated the followers of the Cross and of the
Crescent against each other, was much soAened by a
feeling so natural to generous corabalants, and especially
cherished by the spirit of chivalry. This last strong im-
pulse had extended itself gradually from the Christians
to their mortal enemies, the Saracens, both of Spain and
of Palestine. The latter were indeed no longer the lanat-

si TrATaKLKY HOTELS.

ical Bavages, who bod burst from the centre of Arubian
desert^ with the eabre in one hand, and the Koran in the
other, to inflict death or the failh of Mohammed, or at (lie
best, slavery and tribute, upon all wlio dared to oppose
the belief of the prophet of Mecca. These alternntiveB
indeed had been offered to tlie unwai'like Greeks and
Syrians ; but in contending witli the western Christians,
animated by a zeaJ as iiery as their own, and possessed
of as unconquerable courage, address, and success in arms,
the Saracens gradually caught a part of their manoers,
and especially of those chivalroua observances, which
were so well calculated to charm the minds of a proud
and conquering people. They had iheir toumanienta and
games of chivalry; they had even their knights, or some
rank analogous ; and above all, the Saracens observed
their plighted faith with an accui-acy which might Bome-
times put to shame those who owaed a better religion.
Their trucea, whether national or betwixt individuals,
were faithfully observed ; and thus it was, that war, in
itself perhaps the greatest of evils, yet gave occasion for
display of good faith, generosity, clemency, and even
kindly affections, which less frequently occur in more
tranquil periods, where the passions of men, experiencing
wrongs, or entertaining quarrels whicli cannot be brought
to instant decision, are apt to smoulder for a length of
time in the bosoms of those who are so unhappy as to be
their prey.

It was under the influence of these milder feelings,
which soften the horrors of warfare, that the Christian
and Saracen, who had so lately done their best for each
other's mntual destruction, rode at a slow pace towards
the foualain of palm-trees, to which the Knight of the
Couchant Leopard had been tending, when interrupted in

35

mid-passago by hU fleet and dangerouj advcrearj". Each
was wrapt for some time in his own reflections, and look
breath after an encounler which hail threalened to be
fatal to one or both ; and their good horses seemed no less
to enjoy the interval of rcposn. That of the Saracen,
howeTer, though be bad been forced into much the more
violent and CKtended sphere of motioa, appeared to have
suffered less from fatigue than the charger of the Euro-
pean knight/ The sweat hung still clammy on the liraba
of the last, when those of the noble Arab were completely
dried by the interval of tranquil exercise, all saving the
foam-flakes which were still visible on his bridle and
bousing^. The loose soil on whicli he trode so much
augmented the distress of the Christian's horse, heavily
loaded by his own armour and the weight of his rider,
that tlie latter Jumped from his saddle, and led his charger
along the deep dust of the loamy eoil, which was burnt in
the sun into a substance more impalpable than the floest
sand, and thus gave the faithful horse refreshment at the
expense of hia own additional toil ; for, iron-sheathed as
he was, be sunk over the mailed shoes at every step,
which he placed on a surface so light and unresisting.

" You are right," said the Saracen ; and it was the first
word that either had spoken since their truce was con-
cluded,— "your strong horse deserves your care; but
what do you in the desert with an animal, which ainks
over the fetlock at every step, as if be would plant each
' foot deep aa the root of a dale-tree ? "

" Thou Epeakest rightly, Saracen," said the Christian
knight, not delighted at the tone with which the intidel
criticized his favourite horae, — " rightly according to thy
knowledge and observation. But my good horae hath
ere now borne me, in mine own land, over as wide a lake

S6 WA.TEBLET KOTKLS.

BB thou seest yonder spread out behind ui, yet not wel
one hair above his hoof."

The Saracen looked at him with aa much surprise as
his manners permitted him to testify, which was only ex-
pressed by a slight approach to a disdainful emilc, tliat
hardly curled perceptibly the broad thick mustache which
enveloped his upper lip.

" It is justly spoken," he said, instantly composing him-
self to his usual aerene gravity, — "list to a Frank, and
hear a fable."

" Thou art not courteous, misbeliever," replied the
Crusader, " to doubt the word of a clubbed knight ; and
were it not that thou speakest in ignorance, and not in
malice, our truce had its ending ere it ia well begun.
Thinkest thou I tell thee an untruth when I say, that I,
one of five hundred horsemen, armed in complete mail,
have ridden — ay, and ridden for miles, upon water as
solid as the eiyatal, and ten times less brittle I "

" What wouldst thou tell me ? " answered the Moslem ;
" yonder inland sea thou dost point at is peculiar in this,
that, by the especial curse of God, it suflereth nothing to
sink in its waves, but wafts them away, and casts them
on its margin ; but neither the Dead Sea, nor any of the
seven oceans which environ the earth, will endure on
their surface the pressure of a horde's foot, more than the
Ked Sea endured to sustain the advance of Pharaoh and
his hosL"

" You speak ti'uth after your knowledge, Saracen,"
said the Christian knight ; " and yet, trust me, I fable
not, according to mine. Heat, in this climate, converts
the soil into something almost as unstable ts water ; and
in my land cold often converts the water itself into a
substance as hard as rock. Let us apeak of this dc

THE TAI.I3SIAN. 37

kmgef ) for the thonght^ of the calm, clenr, blue reful-
gence of a winter's lake, glimmering to slara ana
mooubeam, aggravate iLe horrors of this fiery desert,
where, methinka, the very air wluL-h we breathe is
like the vapour of a fiery furnace seven times
heated."

The Saracen looked on him with Boroe attention, as if
to discover in what sense he was to underfctand words,
which, to him, must have appeared either to contain
something of myfitery, or of imposition. At leugtli he
seemed determined in what manner to receive the lan-
guage of his new companion.

" You are," he said, " of a Dation that loves to laugh,
and you make sport wilh yourselves, and with others, by
telliug what ie impossible, and reporting what never
chanced. Thou art one of the knights of France, who
hold it for glee and pastime to ffab," ai they term it, of
exploits that are beyond human power. I were wrong to
challenge, for the time, the privilege of thy speech, since
boasting 13 more natui-al to thee than truth."

"I am not of their land, neither of their fashion," said
the Knight, " which is, as thou well sayest, to ffab of that
which they dare not undertake, or undertaking cannot
perfect. But in this I have imitated their folly, brave
Saracen, that in talking to thee of what thou canst no-
comprehend, I have, even in speaking most simple truth
fully incurred the character of a braggart in thy eyes
ao, I pray you, let my words pass."

They had now arrived at the knot of palm-trees, ani

4^ Gaber. Thia French word signiSfld a sort of aport much nsei \
among the FreDch chivulry, which corsisleii in vying wilh each other
In mnking tho mast lomuitic gascoaadea. The verb and the meonioi
■ra reCaJoed in 9eoClUh.

WATEBLBT HOVELS.

the founlain which welled out from beneath their shade
in sparkling profusion.

We have spoken of a moment of truce in the midat of
war ; and this, a spot of beauty in the midat of a stofilo
desert, was scarce less dear to the iniagi nation. It was a
scene which, perliaps, would elsewhere have deserved
little notice ; but as the single speck, in a boundless
horizon, whioh promised the refreshment of shsido and
living water, these blessings, held cheap where Iliey are
uoramon, rendered the fountain and its neighbourhood a
little paradise. Some generous or charitable hand, ere
yet the evil days of Palestine began, had waJled in aud
arched over the fountain, to preserve it from being ab-
Borbed in the earth, or choked by the flitting clouds of
dust with which the least breath of wind covered the
desert The arch was now broken, and partly ruinous;
but it still so far projected over, and covered in the foun-
tain, that it excluded the sun in a great measnre from its
waters, which, hardly touched by a straggling beam,
while all around was blazing, lay in a steady repose,
alike delightful to the eye and the imagination. Stealing
from under the arch, they were first received in a marble
basin, much defaced indeed, but still clieering the eye, by
showing that the place was anciently considered as a
station, that the hand of man had been there, and that
man's accommodation had been in some measure attended
to. The tbii-sty and weary traveller was reminded by
these signs, that others bad suffered similar difficulties,
reposed in the same spot, and, doubtless, found their way
in safety to a more fertile country. Again, the scarce
visible current which escaped from the basin, served to
nourish the few trees which surrounded the fountain, and
where it sank into the ground and disappeared, its re-

the: talisuan. 99

freshing [ireacnce was at/knoivledged by a carpet of velret
verdure.

In this delightful spot the two warriors halted, and
each, after his own fashioo, proceeded to relieve his horse
from saddle, bit, and rein, and permitted the animals to
drink at the basin ei^ they refreshed themselves from the
fountain head, which arose under the vault. They then
suffered the steeds to go loose, confident that their in-
terest, as well as their domesticated habits, would pre-
vent their straying from the pure water and fresh grass.

Christian and Saracen next sat down together on the
turf, and produced each the small allowance of store
which they carried for their own refreshment. Yet,
ere they severally proceeded to their scanty meal, they
eyed each other with that curiosity which the close and
doubtful conflict in which they had been so hilely engaged
was calculated to inspire. Each was desirous to measure
the strength, and form some estimate of the character,
of an adversary so formidable ; and each was compelled
to acknowledge, that had he fallen in the conflict, it had
been by a noble hand.

The champions formed a striking contrast to each other
in person and features, and might have formed no inac-
curate representatives of their different nations. The
Frank seemed a powerful man, built after the ancient
Gothic cast of form, with light brown hair, which, on the
removal of his helmet, was seen to curl thick and pro-
fusely over hifl head. His features had acquired, from
the hot chmaie, a hue much darker than those parts of
his neck which were less frequently exposed to view, or
than was warranted by his full and well-opened blue eye,
the colour of his hair, and of the mustaches which thickly
shaded his upper lip, while his chin was carefully divested

1

WATSRLET KOTELS.

of beard, after the Norman fashion. Hia nose was Gre-
cian and well-formed j hia month a little large in propor-
tion, but filled with well-set, strong, and beautifully white
teeth : his head amall, and set upon the neck with much
grace. Hia age could not exceed thirty, but if the effecfa
of toil and climate were allowed for, might be three or
four years under that period. Hia form waa tall, power-
ful, and athletic, like that of a man whose streogth might,
in later life, become unwieldy, but which was hitherto
united with lightness and activity. His hands, when he
withdrew the mailed gloves, were long, fair, and well-
proportioned; the wrist-bones peculiarly large and strong;
and the arms themselves remarkably well-shaped and
brawny, A militai'y hardihood, and careless frankness
of expression, characterized his language and his motions ;
and hia voice had the tone of one more accustomed to
command than to obey, and who was in the habit of ex-
pressing his sectimenta aloud and boldly, whenever he
was called upon to announce them.

The Saracen Emir formed a marked and striking con-
trast with the western Crusader. His stature was indeed
above the middle size, but he was at least three inches
shorter than the European, whose size approached the
gigantic. His slender limbs, and long apare hands and
arms, though well proportioned to his person, and suited
to the style of his countenaDce, did not at first aspect
promise the display of vigour and elasticity which the
Emir had lately exhibited. But on looking more closely,
his limbs, where exposed to view, seemed divested of all
that was fleshy or cumbersome ; so that nothing being
left but bone, brawn, and sinew, it was a frame fitted for
exertion and fatigue, far beyond that of a bulky cham-
pion, whose strength and size are counterbalanced by

u

weiglit, and who is exhausted hj his own exertion?. The
counienance of the Saracen oalurally bore a general
national resemblance to the £a$tem tribe from whom he
descended, and was as unlike oa possible to the exagger-
ated terms in which the minslreb of the day were wont
to represent the infidel champion^ and the fahalous
description which a "Bister art still presents as the Sara-
cen's head upon aignposla. His features were small^
well-formed, and delicate, though deeply embrowned by
the Eastern stin, and terminated by a flowing and curled
black beard, which seemed trimmed wilh peculiar care.
The no^e was straight and regular, the eyes keen, deep-
set, black, and glowing, and bis teeth equalled in beauty
the ivory of his deserts. The person and proportions of
the. Saracen, in abort, stretched on the turf near to his
powerful antagonist, might have been compared to his
sheeny and crescent-formed sabre, with its narrow and
light, but bright and keen Damascus blade, contrasted
with the long and ponderous Gothic war-sword which
was ilung unbuckled on the some sod. The Emir was in
the very flower of hia age, and might perhaps have
been termed eminently beautiful, but for the narrowness
of his fbrebead, and eometliing of too much thinness and
sharpness of feature, or at leaat what might have seemed
such in a European estimate of beauty.

The manners of the Eastern warrior were grave, grace-
ful, and decorous ; indicating, however, in some particu-
lars, the habitual restraint which men of warm and
choleric tempers ot\en set as a guard upon their native
impetuosity of disposition, and at the same time a sense
of hia own dignity, which seemed to impose a certain
formality of behaviour in him who entertained it.

Thiu haughty feeling of superiority was perhaps equally

42 W4VERLEY N0VBL8.

enterlaiued by tia new European acquaintance, but the
effect was different ; and the same feeling, wbich dictated
to the Christian knight a bold, blunt, and somewhat care- ■
less bearing, aa one too conscious of his own importance
to be anxious about the opinions of others, appeared to
prescribe to the Saracen a style of courtesy more studi-
ously and ibrmally obseiTant of ceremony. Both were
courteous; but the courtesy of the Christian seemed to
flow rather from a good-humoured sense of what was due
to others ; that of the Moslem, from a high feelmg of
■what was to be expected from himself.

The provision whicli each had made for bis refreshment
was simple, but the meal of the Saracen was abstemious.
A handful of dates, and a morsel of coarse barley-bread,
sufficed to relieve the hunger of the latter, whose educa-
tion had habituated him to the fare of the desert, al-
though, since their Syrian conquests, the Arabian simplic-
ity of life frequently gave place to the most unbounded
profusion of luxury, A few draughts from the lovely
fountain by which they reposed, completed his meal.
That of the Christian, though coarse, was more genial.
Dried hog's-flesh, the abomination of the Moslemah, was
the chief part of his repast; and his drink, derived from
a leathern bottle, contiuned something better than pure
element. He fed with more display of appetite, and
drank with more appearance of satisfaction, than the
Saracen judged it becoming to allow in the performance
of a mere bodily function ; and, doubtless, the secret con-
tempt which each entertained for the other, as the fol-
lower of a false religion, waa considerably increased by
the mai'ked difference of their diet and manoers. But
each had found the weight of his opponent's arm, and the
mutual respect which the bold struggle had created, was

THE TALIBUAK.

Bufflcient to subdue oilier and inferior consideralious. Ye*
tbe Saracen could not help remarking the circumslaocea
which displeased him in the Christian's conduct and
manners ; and, afler he had witnessed for some time in
silence the keen appetite which protracted the knight's
banquet long after his own was concluded, he thus ad-
dressed him : —

"Valiant Nazarene, is it fitting that one who can fight
like a man, should feed like a dog or a wolf? Even a
miabelieving Jew would shudder at the food which you
seem to eat with as much relish as if it were fruit from
the trees of Paradise."

" Valiant Saracen," answered the Christian, looking up
with some surprise at the accusation thus unespectedly
brought, " know thou that I exercise my Chrislian free-
dom, in using that which is forbidden to the Jews, being
as they esteem themselves, under the bondage of the old
law of Moses. We, SaraccD, be it known to thee, have a
better warrant for what we do — ^Ave Maria ! — be we
thankful." And, as if in defiance of his companion's
scruples, he concluded a short Latin grace with a long
draught from the leathern bottle.

" That, too, you call a part of your liberty," said the
Saracen ; " and as you feed like the brutes, so j'ou degrade
yourself to the bestial condition, by drinking a poisonous
liquor which even they refuse I "

" Know, foolish Saracen," replied the Chrislian, with-
out hesitation, " that thou blasphemest the gifts of God,
even with the blasphemy of thy father Ishmael, The
juice of the grape is given to him that will use it wisely,
as that which cheers the heart of man after toil, refreshes
him in sickness, and comforts him in sorrow. He who so
snjoyeth it may thank God for hia wine-cup as for "lia

44 WATBRLET HOVELS. I

daily bread ; and he who abuseth the gift of Heaven, ia
not a greater fool io his intoxication than thou in thine
abslinence."

The keen eye of the Saracen kindled at this sarcasm,
and his hand sought the hilt of his poniiird. It waa but
a momentary tlioiight, however, and died away in (lie re-
collection of the powerful champion with whom he had to
deal, and the desperate grapple, the impressioQ of which_
Gtill throbbed ia his limbs and veitts ; and he contented
himself with pursuing the contest in colloquy, as more
convenient for the time.

" Thy words," he said, " 0 Nazarene, might create
anger, did not tliy ignorance raise compassion. See'st
thou noi, O thou more bliod than any who asks alma at
the door of the Mosque, that the liberty thou dost boast
of is restrained even in that which is dearest to man's
happiness, and Io his household ; and that thy law, if thou
dost practice it, binds thee in marriage to one single mate,
be she sick or healthy, be she fruitful or barren, bring she
comfort and joy, or clamour and strife, to thy table and to
thy bed? This, Nazarene, I do indeed call slavery;
whereas, to the faithful, hath the Prophet assigned upon
earth the patriarchal privileges of Abraham our father,
and of Solomon, the wisest of mankind, having givCD us
here a succession of beauty at our pleasure, and beyond
the grave the black-eyed honris of Paradise."

" Now, by His name that I most reverence in Heaven,"
said the Christian, " and by hers whom I most worship
on earth, thou art hut a blinded and a bewildered infidel I
— That dianiond signet, which thou wearcst on thy finger,
thou boldest it, doubtless, as of inestimable value?"

'* Balsora and Bagdad cannot show the like," replied
the Saracen ; " hut what avails it to our purpose ? "

THe TALI3UAK.

" llueh," replied the Frank, " as thou ahalt thyself con-

nj war-axe, and dash the stone into twenty

luld each fragment be as valuable as the

onginal gem, or would they, all collected, bear the tenth

part of its estimation ? "

" That is a child's question," answered the Saracen i
" the fragments of such a stone would not equal the entire
jewel in the degree of hundreds to one."

"Saracen," replied the Christian warrior, "the love
which a true knight binds on one only, fair and fuiihful,
is the gem entire ; the affection thou flingest among Ihy
enslaved wives, and half-wedded slaves, is worthless,
comparatively, as the sparkling shivers of the broken
diamond."

"Now, by the Holy Caaba," said (he Emir, "thou art
a madman, who hugs his chain of iron as if it were of
gold ! — Look more closely. This rfhg of mine would lose
half its beauty were not the signet encircled and enchased
with these lesser brilliants, which grace it and set it off.
The central diamond is man, firm and entire, hifj value
depending on himself alone ; and this circle of lesiter
jewels are women, borrowing his lustre, which he deals
out to them as hest suits his pleasure or his convenience.
Take the central stone from the signet, and the diamond
itself remains as valuable as ever, while the lesser gems
are comparatively of little valne. And this is the true
reading of thy parable ; for, what sayeth the poet Man-
sour : 'It is the favour of man which giveth beauty and
comelinesa to woman, aa the stream glitters no longer
when the sun ceaseth to shine.'"

" Saracen," replied the Crusader, " thou apeakest like
one who never saw a woman worthy the affection of a
soldier. Believe me, couldst thou look upon those of

4G WAVERLET

Europe, to whom, after Heaven, we of llie order of knight-
hood vow fealty and devotion, thou wouldst loathe for
ever the poor sensual slaves who form thy harem. The
beauty .of our fair ones gives point to our spears, and
edge to our swords ; their words are our law ; and as
soon will a lamp shed lustre when unkindled, as a knight
distioguiah himself by feats of arras, having do mistress
of hia affection."

"I have heard of this frenzy among the warriors of
the west," said the Emir, "and have ever accounted it
one of the accompanying symptoms of that insanity, which
brings you hither to obtain possession of an empty sepul-
chre. But yet, methinks, so highly have the Franks
whom I liave met with extolled the beauty of iheir
women, I could be well contented to behold with mine
own eyea those charma, which can transform such brave
wsirriors into the tools of their pleasure."

" Brave Saracen," said the Knight, " if I were not on a
pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, it should be ray pride,
to conduct you, on assurance of safety, to the camp of
Kichard of England, than whom none knows better how
to do honour to a noble foe ; and though I be poor and
unattended, yet have I interest to secure for ihee, or any
such as thou seemest, not safety only, but respect and
esteem. There shouldst thou, see several of the fairest
beauties of France and Britain form a small circle, the
brilliancy of which exceeds ten-thousand-fold the Instre
of mines of diamonds such as thine."

" Now, by the comer-stone of the Caaha," aaid the
Saracen, "I will accept thy invitation as freely as it is
given, if thou wilt postpone thy present intent ; and,
credit me, brave Nazarene, it were better for thyself to
turn back thy horse's head towards the camp of lh_y

THE TALISHAN.

people, for, to travel tomnrd? Jemsalera williout a paas-
porl, is but a wilftil casting away of thy life."

" I have a pass," answered the Knight, producing a
parchment, "under Saladin'n hand and signet."

The Saracen bent his head to the dust as he recognized
the seal and handwriting of the renowned Soldan of
Egypt and Syria; and having kissed the paper with pro-
found respect, he pressed it to his forehead, then returned
it to the Christian, saying, " Rash Frank, thou htist sinned
against lliino own blood and mine, for not showing this to
me when we met."

"You came with levelled spear," Eaid the Knight;
" Lad a troop of Saracens so assailed me, it might have
stood with my honour to Iiavo shown tho Soldan's pass,

"And yet one man," aaid the Saracen, haughtily, " was
enough to interrupt your journey."

" True, brave Moslem," replied the Christian ; " but
there are few such as thou art. Such falcons ily not in
flocks, or if they do, they pounce not in numbers upon
one."

" Thou dost us but justice," said the Saracen, evidently
gratified by the compliment, as he had been touched by
the impUed scorn of the European'a previous boast ;
"from us thou shouldst have had no wrong; but weU
was it for mo that I failed to slay thee, with the safeguard
of the king of kings upon thy person. Certain it were,
ttint the CDi'd or the sabre had justly avenged such guilL"

"I am glad to hear that its influence shall be availing
to me," said the Knight ; " for I have heard that the
road is infested with robber-tribes, who regard nothing in
comparison of an opportunity of plunder."

"The truth has been told to thee, brave Christian,"

48 TTATERLET HOTELS.

said llie Saracen ; " but I swear to thee, by the turban
of tlie Prophet, that shoutdst ttou miscarrj in any haunt
of such villains, I will myself underlake thy revenge wilh
five thousand horse r I will slay every male of them, and
eend their, women into such distant captivity, that the
name of their tribe shall ne\er again be heard within five
hundred miles of Damascus. I will sow with salt the
foundations of their village, and there shall never live
thing dwell there, even from that time forward."

" I had rather the trouble which you design for your-
self, were in revenge of some other more important
person than of me, noble Emir," replied the Knight;
" but my vow is recorded in Heaven, for good or for evil,
and I must be indebted lo you for pointing me out the
way lo my resting-place for this evening."

" That," said the Saracen, " must be under the black
coveiing of my father's tent."

" This night," answered the Christian, " I must pass in
prayer and penitence wilh a holy man, Theodorick of
Engaddi, who dwells amongst these wilds, and spends his
life in the service of God."

"I will at least see you safe thither," said the Sara-'

" That would be pleasant convoy for me," said the
Christian, "yet might endanger the future security of the
good father ; for the cruel hand of your people has been
red with the blood of the servants of the Lord, and there-
fore do we come hither in plate and mail, with sword and
lance, to open the road to the Holy Sepulchre, and pro-
tect the chosen saints and anchorites who yet dwell in this
land of promise and of miracle."

"Nazarene," said the Moslem, "in this the Greeks
and Syrians have much belied us, seeing we do but afltsr

THE TALISHAir. 49

Ihe word of Abubcker Alwakel, thij successor of tbe
Propliet, and, after him, the first commander of true be-
lievers. ' Go forth,' he said, ' Yezed Ben Sopbian,' when
he sent that renowned general to lake Syria from tbe
infidels, ' quit yourselvea ilke men in battle, but slay
neither' the aged, the infirm, tbe women, nor the children.
Waste not the land, neither destroy corn and fruit-trees,
they are the gifta of Allah. Keep faith when you hiire
made any covenant, even if it be to your own harm. If
ye find holy men labouring witb their hands, and serving
God in the desert, hurt them not, neither destroy their
dwellings. But when you find them with shaven crowns,
they are of the synagogue of Satan ! smite with the sabre,
slay, cease not till they become believers or tributaries.'
As the Caliph, companion of the Prophet, hath told us,
so have we done, and those whom our justice has smitten
are but the priests of Satan. But unto the good men
who, without stirring up nation against nation, worship
sincerely in the faith of lasa Ben Mariam, we are a
shadow and a shield; and such being he whom you seek,
even though the light of the Prophet hath not reached
him, from me he will only have love, favour, and re-
gard."

" The anchorite, whom I would now visit," said the
warlike pilgrim, "is, I have heard, no priest; but were
he of that anointed and sacred order, I would prove with
my good lance, against paynim and infidel"

" Let us not defy each other, brother," interrupted Ihe
Saracen ; " we shall find, either of us, enough of Franks
or of Moslemah on whom to exercise both sword and
lance. This Tbeodorick is protected both by Turk and
Arab ; and, though one of strange conditions at intervals,
yet, on the whole, he bears himself so well as the fol-

50 WAVERLET NOVELS.

lower of his own prophet, that he merits the protection
of him who was sent "

" Now, by Our Lady, Saracen," exclaimed the Chris-
tian, ^^ if thou darest name in the same breath, the camel-
driver at Mecca with "

An electrical shock of passion thrilled through the
form of the Emir ; but it was only momentary, and the
calmness of his reply had both dignity and reason in it,
when he said, '^ Slander not him whom thou knowest not;
the rather that we venerate the founder of thy reli^on,
while we condemn the doctrine which your priests have
spun from it. I will myself guide thee to the cavern of the
hermit, which, methinks, without my help, thou wouldst
find it a hard matter to reach. And, on the way, let
us leave to mollahs and to monks, to dispute about the
divinity of our faith, and speak on themes which belong
to youthful warriors, — ^upon battles, upon beautiful
women, upon sharp swords, and upon bright armour.*'

CHAPTER m.

The warriors arose from their place of brief rest and
eiiaple refreshment, and courteously aided each other
while they carefully replaced and adjusted (he harness,
from which they had relieved for the time tlieir troaty
steeds. Each seemed familiar with an employment,
which, at that time, was a part of necessary, and, indeed,
of indispensable duty. Each also seemed to possess, aa
far as the difference hetnixt the animal and rational spe-
cies admitted,, the eoniidence and affection of the horse,
which was the constant companion of his travels and his
warfare. With the Saracen, this familiar intimacy was a
part of his early habits ; for, in the tents of the Eastern
militAry tribes, the horse of the soldier ranks next to, and
almost equal in importance with, his wife and his family;
and, with the European warrior, circumstances, and in-
deed necessity, rendered his war-horse scarcely less llian
his broth er-in-arms. The steeds, therefore, euffered tliem-
selvea quietly to be taken from their food and liberty, and
neighed and snnffled fondly around their masters, while
thej were adjusting their accoutrements for farther travel
and additional toil. And each warrior, as he prosecuted
hia own task, or assisted with courtesy his companion,
looked with observant curiosity at the equipments of hia
fellow-traveller, and noted particularly what struck him as
peculiar in the fashion in which he arranged his riding
Hccoutremeuts.

62 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Ere the^ remounted to resume their journey, the Chris-
tian knight again moistened his lips, and dipt his hands in
the living fountain, and said to his Pagan associate of the
journey — ^^ I would I knew the name of this delicious
fountain, that I might hold it in my gi*ateful remem-
brance ; for never did water slake more deliciously a
more oppressive thirst than I have this day experi-
enced."

" It is called in the Arabic language," answered the
Saracen, " by a name which signifies the Diamond of the
Desert."

" And well is it so named," replied the Christian. " My
native valley hath a thousand springs, but not to one of
them shall I attach hereafter such precious recollection
as to this solitary fount, which bestows its liquid treas-
ures where they are not only delightful, but nearly
indispensable."

" You say truth," said the Saracen ; " for the curse is
still on yonder sea of death, and neither man nor beast
drink of its waves, nor of the river which feeds without
filling it, until this inhospitable desert be passed."

They mounted, and pursued their journey across the
sandy waste. The ardour of noon was now past, and a
light breeze somewhat alleviated the terrors of the desert,
though not without bearing on its wings an impalpable
dust, which the Saracen little heeded, though his heavily-
armed companion felt it as such an annoyance, that he
hung his iron casque at his saddlebow, and substituted
the light riding-cap, termed in the language of the time a
mortier, from its resemblance in shape to an ordinary
mortar. They rode together for some time in silence, the
Saracen performing the part of director and guide of the
journey, which he did by observing minute marks and

TBB TALISMAN.

bearings of the distant rocks, to a riclge of which ihey
were gradually approacliing. For a little time he seemed
absorbed in the task, as a pilot when navigating a vessel
tbrougli a difficult channel ; but they had not proceeded
half a league when he seemed secure of his route, and dis-
posed, with more frankness than was usual to his nation,
to enter into conversation.

"Tou have asked the name," he said, "of a loiite foun-
tain, which hath the semblance, but not the reality, of a
living thing. Let me be pardoned to aak the name of the
companion with whom I have this day encountered, bolh
in danger and in repose, and which I cannot fancy un-
known, 6ven here among the deserts of Palestine ?"

" It is not yet worth publishing," said the Christian.
" Know, however, that among the soldiers of the Cross
I am called Eenneth — Kenneth of the Couching Leop-
ard ; at home I have other titles, but they would sound
harsh in an Eastern ear. Brave Saracen, let me ask
which of the tribes of Arabia claims your descent, and
by what name you are known ? "

" Sir Kenneth," said the Moslem ; " I joy that your
name is such as my lips can easily utter. For me, I am
no Arab, yet derive my descent from a line neither less
wild nor less warlike. Know, Sir Knight of the Leop-
ard, that I am Sbeerkohf, the Lion of the Mouniain, and
that Kurdistan, from which I derive my descent, holds no
family more noble than that of Seljook."

" I have heard," answered the Christian, " that your
great Soldan claims his blood fram the same source ? "

" Thanks to the Prophet, that hatli so far honoured our
mountains, as to send from their bosom him whose word
IS victory," answered the Paynim. " I am but as a worm
before the King of Egypt and Syria, and yet in my own

Hi WATESLET NOVELS.

laod Bomething ray name may ayail. — Stranger, wilh hoi?
many men didat thou come on this warfare ? "

" By my faith," said Sir Kenneth, " with aid of frienda
and kinsmen, I waa hardly pinched to furnish forth ten
well-appointed lancea, with maybe some fifty more men,
archera and varlela included. Some have deserted my
unlucky pennon — some have fallen in battle — several
have died of disease — and one trusty armour-bearer, for
whose life I am now doing my pilgrimage, lies on the hed
of sickness."

" Chriatian," eaid Sheerkohf, " here I have five arrows
in my quiver, each feathered fi-om the wing of an eagle.
When I send one of them lo my tents, a thousand war-
riors mount on horseback — when I send another, an equal
force will arise — for the five I can command five thousand
men ; and if I send my bow, ten thousand mounted riders
will shake the desert. And with ihy fifty followers thou
hast come to invade a land in which I am one of the
meanest 1"

" Now, by the rood, Saracen," retorted the western
warrior, " thou shouldst know ere thou vauntest thy-
self, that one steel glove can crush a whole handful of
hornela.'"

" Ay, but it must first enclose them within ila grasp,"
suid the Saracen, with a smile which might have endan-
gered their new alliance, had he not changed the subject
by adding, "And is bravery so much esteemed amongst
the Chi-istian princes, that thou, thns void of means, and
of men, const offer, as tbou didst of late, to be ray pro-
teclor and security in the camp of thy brethren ? "

" Know, Saraeen," said the Chriatian, " since such is
ihy style, that the name of a knight, and the blood of a
gentleman, entitle him to place himself on the same rank

TlIU: TALISUAH. 56

with sovereigns even of the first degree, in so lar at
regards all but regal authority and dominion. Were
Richard of England himself to wound tlie honour of a
knight 03 poor as I am, be could not, by ibe law of
chivaby, deny him the combaL"

" Melhinks I should like to look upon so strange a
scene," said the Emir, " in which a leathern belt and
a pair of spurs put the poorest on a level with the most
powerful."

" Tou must add free blood and a fearless heart," said
the Christian ; " then, perhaps, you will not have spoken
untruly of the dignity of knighthood."

"And mix you as boldly amongst the females of your
chiefs and leaders F" asked the Saracen.

" God forbid," said the Knight of the Leopard, " that
the poorest Knight in Christendom should not be free, in
all honourable service, to devote his hand and sword, the
fame of his actions, and the fixed devotion of his heart, to
the fairest princess who ever wore coronet on her brow ! "

" But a little while since," said the Saracen, " and you
described love as the highest treasure of the heart — ihinn
hath undoubtedly been highly and nobly bestowed ? "

" Stranger," answered the Christian, blushing deeply
as he spoke, " we tell not rashly where it is we have be-
stowed our choicest treasures — it is enough for thee to
know, that, as thou sayest, my love is highly and nobly
bestowed — most highly — most nobly; but if thou wouldst
hear of love and broken lances, venture thyself, as thou
Eayest, to the camp of the Crusaders, and ihon wilt find
exercise for thine ears, and, if thou wilt, for thy hands

The Eastern i

[ himself in his stirrups,

ind shaking alolt his lance, replied, " Hardly, I fear, shall

56

WAVEKLEY K0VEL9.

I find one with a crossed shoulder, who will exchange
with me the cast of Uie jerrid."

" I will not promise for that," replied the Kniglit,
■' though there be in the camp certain Spaniards, who
have right good skill io your Eastern game of hurling
the javelin."

" Doga, and eons of dogs I " ejaculated the Saracen ;
" what have these Spaniards to do to come hither ti
bat the true behevera, who, in their own land, are their
lords and taskmasters? with them 1 would mix in no
warlike pastime."

'■ Let not the knights of Leon or Asturias bear you
speak thus of them," said the Knight of the Leopard ;
" but," added he, smiling at the recollection of the n
ing'a combat, "if, instead of a reed, you were inclined to
stand the cast of a battle-axe, there are enough of w
warriors who would gratify your longing."

" By the beard of my father, sir," said the Saracen,
with an approach to laughter, " the game is too rough for
mere sport — I will never shun them in battle, but my
head " (pressing his hand to his brow) " will not, for a
while, permit me Io seek them in sport."

" I wonld yon saw the axe of King Richard," answered
the western warrior, " to which that which hangs at my
saddlebow weighs but as a feather,"

" We hear much of that island sovereign," said the
Saracen, "art thou one of his subjects?"

" One of his followers I am, for this expedition," an-
swered the Knight, " and honoured in the service ; but
not bom his subject, although a native of the island in
which he reigns."

"How mean yon?" said the Eastern soldier; "have
jrou then two kings in one poor island F "

TBE T&LISMAJr.

" Aa tliou sayeat," said the Scot, for snch was Sir Ken-
neth by birth, — " It is even so ; and yel, allhougU the
inliabitants of (he two extremitiea of thai island are en-
gaged in frequent war, the country can, as thou aeest, fur-
nish forth 3ueh a body of men-al-arma, as may go far to
sliake the unholy hold which jour master hath laid on the
cities of Zion."

" By the beard of Saladin, Nazareae, but that it is a
thoughtless and boyish folly, I could laugli al the simplic-
ity of your great Sultan, who comes liither to make con-
queats of deserts and rocks, and dispute the possession of
tbera with those who have tenfold numbers at command,
while he leaves a part of his narrow islet, in which he
was born a sovereign, to the domioion of another sceptre
than his. Surely, Sir Eenneth, you and llie other good
men of your country should have submitted yourself to
the dominion of this King Richard, ere you left your na-
tive land, divided against itself, to set forth on this expe-

Hasty and fierce was Kenneth's answer. " No, by the
bright light of Heaven I If the King of England had
not set forth to the Crusade till he was sovereign of Scot-
land, the crescent might, for me, and all true-hearted
ScQts, glimmer for ever on the walls of Zion."

Thus far he had proceeded, when, suddenly recollect-
ing himself, he muttered, " Mea culpa ! mea culpa ! what
have I, a soldier of the Cross, to do with recollection of
war betwixt Christiaa nations ? "

The rapid expression of feeling corrected by the dic-
tates of duty, did not escape the Moslem, who, if he did
not entirely understand all which it conveyed, saw enough
lo convince him with the assurance, that Christians, as
well as Moslemah, had private feelings of personal pique,

6S WATEHLBY. NOVELS.

and national quarrola, which were not entirely reconcila-
ble. Biit the Saracens were a race, polished, perhaps, to
the utmost extent which their religion permitted, and par-
ticularly capable of entertaining high ideas of courtesy
and politeness; and such aentiments prevented his taking
any notice of the inconsiatency of Sir Kenneth's feelings,
in the opposite charactera of a Scot and a Crusader.

Meanwhile, as they advanced, the scene hegan lo
change around them. They were now turniag to the
eastward, and had reached the range of steep and barren
hills, which binds in that quarter the naked plain, and
varies the surface of the country, without changing its
sterile ehai'acter. Sharp rocky eminences began to arise
around them, and, in a short time, deep declivities, and
ascents, both formidable in heiglit, and difficult from the
narrowness of the path, offered to the travellers obstafles
of a different kind from those with which they Jiad re-
cently contended. Dark caverns and chasms amongst
the rocks, those grottoes so often alluded to in Scripture,
yawned fearfully on either side as tliey proceeded, and the
Scottish knight was informed by the Emir, that tliese
were often the refuge of beasts of prey, or of men still
more ferocious, who, driven to desperation by the constant
war, and the oppression exercised by the soldiery, as well
of the Cross as of the Crescent, had become robbers, and
spared neither rank nor religion, neither sex nor age, in
their depredations.

The Scottish knight listened with indifference to the
accounts of ravages committed by wild beasts or wicked
men, secure as he felt himself in his own valour and per-
sonal strength ; but he was struck with mysterious dread,
w*en he recollected that he was now in the awful wilder-
ness of the forty days' fart, and the scene of the actual

^

pepaonal temptation, -wherewith the Evil Principle waa
permitted to assail the Son of Man. He withdrew his

attention gradually from the light and worldly conversa-
tion of the infldei warrior heside him, and, however ac-
ceptahle his gay and gallant bravery would have rendered
him as a companion elsewhere, Sir Kenneth fell as if, in
those wildernesses — the waste and dry places — in which
the foul spirits were wont to wander when espelled the
mortak whose foims they possessed — a bare-fooled friar
would have been a better associate than the gay but un-
believing Paynira.

These feelings embarrassed him ; the rather that the
Saracen's spirits appeared to rise with the journey, anil
because the farther he penetrated into the gloomy recesses
of the mountains, the lighter became his conversation,
and when he found that unanswered, the louder grew Ilia
song. Sir Kenneth knew enough of the Eastern lan-
guages, to be assured that he chanted sonnets of love, con-
taining all the glowing praises of beauty, in which the
Oriental poets are so fond of luxuriating, and which,
therefore, were peculiarly unfitted for a serious or devo-
tional strain of thought, the feeling best becoming the
Wilderness of the Temptation. With inconsistency
enough, the Saracen also sung lays in praise of wine, the
liquid ruby of the Persian poets, and his gaiety at length
became so unsuitable to the Christian knight'a contrary
train of sentiments, as, but for the promise of amity which
they hod exchanged, would most likely have made Sir
Kenneth take measures to change his note. As it was,
the Crusader felt as if he had by his side some gay Ucen-
tious fiend, who endeavoured to ensnare his soul, and en<
danger his immortal salvation, by inspiring loose thoughts
nt earthly pleasure, and thus polluting hia devotion, at a

time when his faith as a Christian, and his von as a pll
grim, called on him for a serious and penitential stat« of
mind. He was thus greatly perplexed, and undeuided
how to act i and it was in a tone of hasty displeasure,
that, at length breaking silence, he interrupted the lay of
the celebrated Rudpiki, in which he prefers the mole on
his mistress's bosom to all the wealth of Bokhara and
Samarcand.

" Saracen," said the Crusader, sternly, " blinded as thou
art, and plunged amidst the en-ors of a false law, thou
shculdst yet comprehend that there are some places more
holy than others, and that there are some scenes also, ia
which the Kvil One hath more than ordinary power over
sinful mortals, I will not tell thee for what awful reason
this place — these rocka — these caverns with their gloomy
ai-ches, leading as it were to the central abyss — are held
an especial haunt of Satan and his angels. It is enough,
that I have been long warned to beware of this place by
wise and holy men, to whom the qualities of the unholy
region are well known. Wherefore, Saracen, forbear thy
foolish and ill-timed levity, and turn thy thoughts to
things more suited to the spot; although, alas, for thee !
thy best prayers are but as blasphemy and sin."

The Saracen listened with some surprise, and then re-
plied, with good-humour and gaiety, only so far repressed
as courtesy required, " Good Sir Kenneth, methinks you
deal unequally by your companion, or else ceremony is
but indifferently taught amongst your western tribes. I
took no offence whea I saw you gorge hog's flesh and
drink wine, and permitted you to enjoy a treat which you
called your Christian liberty, only pitying in my heart
your foul pastimes — "Wherefore, then, shouldst thou lake
Bcandal, because I cheer, to the best of my power, a

gloomy road with a cheerful verse ? — What saith the poet
— ' Song is like the dews of Heaven, on the bosom of the
Jesert ; it cools the path of the traveller.' "

" Friend Saracen," i>aid the Christian, " I blame not
the love of minstrelsy and of the gaie icience ; alheit, we
yield unto it even loo much room in our thoughts when
they should be bent on better things. But prayers and
holy psalms are better fitting than lays of love, or of
wine-cups, wben men walk in this Valley of the Shadow
of Death, full of fiends and demons, whom the prayers
of holy men have driven forth from the haunts of human-
ity lo wander amidst scenes as accursed as themselves."

" Speak not thus of the Genii, Christian," answered
the Saracen, "for know, thou epeakest to one whose line
and nation drew their origin from the immortal race,
which your sect fear and blaeplieme."

"I well thought," answered the Crusader, "that your
blinded race had their descent from the foul fiend, without
whose aid you would never bave been able lo maintain
this blessed land of Palestine against so many valiant
soldiers of Giod. I speak not thus of thee in particular,
Saracen, but generally of thy people and religion.
Strange is it to me, however, not that yon should have
.the descent from the Evil One, but that yon should boast
of it."

" FiTDm whom should the bravest boast of descending,
saving from him that is bravest?" said the Saracen j
" from whom should the proudest trace their line ao well
M from the Dark Spirit, which would rather fall head-
long by force, than bend the knee by his will? Eblis
may be hated, stranger, but he must be feared -, and such
as Eblis are his descendants of Kurdistan."

Tales of magic and of necromancy were the learning

F

t of the perioi

' confession of

WAYEni.ET NOVELS.

of the period, and Sir Kenneth lieard his companion'*
confession of diabolical det^cent without any disbelief, and
without much wonder; yet not without a secret shudder
at finding himself in thi^ feari'u! place, in the company
of one who avouched himself to belong to such a lineage.
Naturally unsusceptible, however, of fear, he crossed
himself, and stoutly demanded of the Saracen an account
of llie pedigree which he had boasted. The latter readily
complied.

" Know, brave stranger," he said, " that when the cruel
Zohauk, one of the descendants of Giamschid, held the
throne of Persia, ho formed a league with the Powera of
Darkness, amidst the secret vaults of Islakhar, vaults
which the hands of the elomenlary spirits had hewn out
of the living rock long before Adam himself had an
existence. Here he fed, with daily oblations of human
blood, two devouring serpents, which bad become, accord-
ing to the poets, a part of himself, and to sustain whom
he levied a tax of daily human sacrifices, till ibe esr
hausted patience of liis subjects caused some to raise up
the scirailar of resistAuce like the vahant BLicksmith, and
the victorious Feridoun, by whom the tyi'ant was at length
dethroned, and imprisoned for ever in the dismal caverns
of the mountain Damavend. But ere that deliverance
had taken place, and whilst the power of the bloodthirsty
tyrant was at its height, the band of ravening slaves,
whom he had sent forth to pui-vey victims for his daily
sacrifice, brought to the vaults of the palace of Istakhar
seven sisters so beautiful, that they seemed seven honris.
These seven maidens were the daughters of a sage, who
had no treasures save those beauties and his own wisdom.
The last was not sufficient to foresee this misfortune, the
fomer seemed ine^ctual to prevent iL The eldest ex-

THE TALIBUAK. 63

eeeded not her twentieth year, the youngest had scarce
attained her tliirteenth ; and so like were they lu each
other, that they could not have been distinguished hut for
t!ie difference of height, in which ihoy gradtially rose iii
eaay gradation above each olher, like the ascent ivliich
leads to the gates of Paradise. So IotbIj wore ihesa
seven sislera when Ihey stood in the darksome vault, dis-
robed of all clothing saving a cymar of white silk, thai
their charms moved the hearts of those who were not
mortal. Thunder muttered, the earth shook, tUo wall of
the vault was rent, and at the chasm entei-ed one dressed
like a hunter, with bow and sliafts, and followed by six
others, his brethren. They were tall men, and, though
dark, yet comely to behold, hut their eyes had more ihe
glare of those of the dead, than the light which lives
under the eyelids of Ihe living. ' Zeineb,' said the leader
of the band — and as he spoke he took the eldest sisler
by the hand, and his voice was soft, low, and melancliuly,
— 'I am Colhrob, king of the Bubterranean world, and
supreme chief of Ginniatan, I and my brethren are
of those, who, created out of the pure elementary fire,
disdained, even at the command of Omnipotence, to do
homage (o a dod of earth, because it was called Man.
Thou may'st have heard of us as cruel, unrelealing, and
persecuting. It is false. We are by nature kind and
generous ; only vengeful when insulted, only cruel when
affronted. We are true to those who trust us ; and we
have heard the invocations of thy father, the sage Mith-
rasp, who wisely worships not alone the Origin of Good,
but that which is called the Source of Evih Tou and
your sisters are on the eve of death ; hut let each give lo
us one hair from your fair tresses, in token of fealty, and
we will carry you many milea from hence to a place of

64 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

safety, where you may bid defiance to Zohauk and hia
ministers.' The fear of instant death, saith the poet, is
like the rod of the prophet Haroun, which devoured all
other rods when transformed into snakes before the King
of Pharaoh ; and the daughters of the Persian sage were
less apt than others to be afraid of the addresses of a
spirit They gave the tribute which Cothrob demanded,
and in an instant the sisters were transported to an en-
chanted castle on the mountains of Tugrut, in Kurdistan,
and were never again seen by mortal eye. But in
process of time seven youths, distinguished in the war
and in the chase, appeared in the environs of the castle
of the demons. They were darker, taller, fiercer, and
more resolute, than any of the scattered inhabitants of
the valleys of Kurdistan ; and they took to themselves
wives, and became fathers of the seven tribes of
the Kurdmans, whose valour is known throughout the
universe."

The Christian knight heard with wonder the wild tale,
of which Kurdistan still possesses the traces, and, after a
moment's thought, replied, — "Verily, Sir Knight, you
have spoken well — your genealogy may be dreaded and
hated, but it cannot be contenmed. Neither do I any
longer wonder at your obstinacy in a false faith ; since,
doubtless, it is part of the fiendish disposition which hath
descended from your ancestors, those infernal huntsmen,
as you have described them, to love falsehood rather than
truth ; and I no longer marvel that your spirits become
high and exalted, and vent themselves in verse and in
tunes, when you approach to the places encumbered by
the haunting of evil spirits, which must excite in you
that joyous feeling which others experience when ap-
proaching the land of their human ancestry."

TUE TALISMAN.

65

" By my father's beard, I ihiok thou haat the liglit,"
B^d the Saracen, ratber amused than oSended by the
ireedom with which the Christian had uttered his reflec-
tions; "for, though the Prophet (blessed be hia name!)
hath sown amongst us the seed of a better faith than our
ancestors learned in the ghostly halls of Tugrut, yet we
are not willing, hke other Moslemah, to pass hasty doom
on the lofty and powerful elementary spirits from whom
we claim our origin. These Genii, according to our
belief and hope, are not altogether reprobate, but are
Btill ia the way of probation, aud may hereafter be
punished or rewarded. Leave we this to the moUahs
and the imaums. Enough that with us the reverence for
these spirits is not altogether effiiced by what we have
learned from tho Koran, and that many of u^ still mug,
in memorial of our father's more ancieat faith, such
verses as these."

So saying, he proceeded to chant verses, very ancient
in the language and structure, which some have thought
derive their source from the worshippers of Arimanes,
the Evil Principle.

ATtitTMAV.

Dark Abriman, vbom Iraik Btm
Holds ortgia of woe and 111 1

Wlien, banding at thy ehrine.
We viaw the world wltb troublad oyo,
Whera aoa we 'neath tbe extended akf,

An empira matching tliina?

If the Banlgner Power can yield
A fountain in the desert field.

Where weary pilgrims drink;
Thine aro the waves that laah the rook.
Thine the tomado'E deadly shock,

Where oonntless navies sink I

66 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Or if He bid the soil dispense
Balsams to cheer the sinking sense,

How few can they deliver
From lingering pains, or pang intense^
Rod Fever, spotted Pestilence,

The arrows of thy quiver I

Chief in Man*8 bosom sits thy sway,
And frequent, while in words we pray

Before another throne,
Whatever of specious form be there,
The secret meaning of the prayer

Is, Ahriman, thine own.

Say, hast thou feeling, sense, and form.
Thunder thy voice, thy garments 8ton%

As Eastern Magi say;
With sentient soul of hate and wrath.
And wings to sweep thy deadly path,

And fangs to tear thy prey?

Or ui; thou mix*d in Nature's source,
An ever-operating force,

Converting good to ill;
An evil principle innate.
Contending with our better fate,

And oh I victorious still ?

However it be, dispute is vain.

On all without thou hold'st thy reign.

Nor less on all within ;
Each mortal passion's fierce career.
Love, hate, ambition, joy, and fear,

Thou goadest into sin.

Whene'er a sunny gleam appears,
To brighten up our vale of tears.

Thou art not distant far;
'Mid such brief solace of our lives.
Thou whett'st our very banquet-knives

To tools of d^ath and war.

Thus, from the moment of our birth,
Long as we linger on the earth.
Thou rulest the fate of men;

THE TAT^UAfl. 67

Tblne me the pangs or life's Irtst hoar.
And — who d!irB suiwer ? — is thy power,
DaikSpirll;! ended Thb.-c?*

These versos may perhaps have been the not un-
natural efiusion of some half- enlightened philosopher,
who, in the fabled deity, Arimanes, saw but the preva-
lence of moral and physical evil ; but in ihe ears of Sir
Kenneth of the Leopard, they had a different effect, and,
GUDg as they were by one who had just boasted himself a
descendant of demons, sounded very like an address of
worsliip to the Arch-Send himself. He weighed within
himself, whether, on hearing such blasphemy in the very
desert where Satan had stood rebuked for demanding
homage, taking an abrupt leave of the Saracen was suf-
ficient to testify his abhorrence; or whether ho was not
rather constrained by his vow as a Crusader, to defy the
infidel to combat on the spot, and leave him food for the
beasts of the wilderness, when his attention was suddenly
caught hy an unexpected apparition.

The light was now verging low, yet served the knight
still to dbcem that they two were no longer alone in the
forest, but were closely watched by a figure of great

* The worthy and learned olergymac, by whom this Bpecios of
hymn has been tmnaliited, desires, that, for fenr or iniiOOQCeption, wo
sbanld woru the render lo recollect, that it is composed by a beathod,
to nboni the real causes of moral and physical evil ere anknawn, aiid
who views their predominauce ill tUa eyatem of the universe, as nil
must view that appalling fact, who have cot the benefit of Iho Chris-
tian Revelation. On our onn part, we beg to add, tluit we nnderstaiid
the style of the translator ia more paraphrastic than can bo approved
bytboss who are acquainted with <he eiogularly curioua original.
The translator aeema to have despaired of rendering into English
verse tbe flights of Oriental poetry; and, possibly, Hko many learned
and Ingenious men, finding it impossible to discover the sense of the
Ori^al, he may tiave tacitly eubatituCed tiis Own.

70 WAVEHtET KOVELS.

"Aiiil a proper quarrel it were," answered the Hamako ■
"for a Crusader lo do battle in — for the sake of an un-
baplized dog to combat one of his own holy faith I Art
thou come forth to the wildernefia to fight for the Cresoent
against (he Cross ? A goodlj soldier of God art thou to
listen to those who sing the pmisea of Satan I "

Yet while he spoke thus, he arose himself, and, suffer-
ing the Saracen lo arise also, returned him hie cangiar,
or poniard.

" Thou Feest to what a point of peril thy presumption
hath brought thee," continued he of the goat-skin?, now
addressing Sheerkohf, " and by what weak means thy
practised skill and boasted agility can be foiled, when
Buch is Heaven's pleasure. Wherefore, beware, O
Ilderim I for know that, were there not a twinkle in the
star of thy nativity, which promises for thee something
that is good and gracious ia Heaven's good time, we two
had not parted till I jiad torn asunder the throat which
BO lately trilled forth blasphemies."

" Hamako," said the Saracen, without any appearance
of resenting the violent language, and yet more violent
assault, to which he had been subjected, " I pray thee,
good Hamako, to beware how thou dost again urge thy
privilege over far ; for though, as a good Moslem, I
respect those whom Heaveu halh deprived of ordinary
reason, in order lo endow them with the spirit of prophecy,
yet I like not other men's hands on the bridle of my horse,
neither upon my own person. Speak, therefore, what
llioii wilt, secure of any resentment fi"om me ; hut gather
BO much sense as to apprehend, that if thou shalt again
proffer me any violence, I will strike thy shagged head
from thy meagre shuulders. — And lo thee, friend Ken-
neth," he added, aa he remounted his steed, " I must

needs say, thal^ in a. companion througU the deaerl, I lova
friendly deeds belter than fair words. Of the last ttiou
ha.f t givea me enough ; but it hod beea bettef lo have
aided me more speedily in my struggle with this Hamaio,
who had well-nigh taken my life in his frenzy."

"By my faith," said the Knight, "I did somewhat fail
— was somewhat tardy in rendering thee inwtant help ;
but the strangeness of the assailanl, the Buddenneas ol' the
scene — it was as if thy wild and wicked lay Lad raised
the devil among ua — and such was my confa<ion, that
two or three minutes elapsed ere I could take to my
weapon."

" Thou art but a cold and considerate friend," said the
Saracen ; " and, had the Hamako been one grain more
frantic, thy companion had been slain by thy side, to thy
eternal dishonour, without-thy stirring a finger in his aid,
although thou sateat hy, mounted and in arms."

" By my word, Saracen," said the Chi-istian, "if thon
wilt have it in plain teiins, I thought that strange figura
wag the devil ; and being of thy lineage, I knew not
what family secret you might be communicating lo each
other, as you lay lovingly rolling together on the sand."

" Thy gibe is no answer, brother Kenneth," said the
Saracen ; " for know, that had my assailant been in very
deed the Prince of Darkness, thou wert bound not the
less to enter into combat with him in thy comrade's be-
half. Know, also, that whatever there may be of foul or
of fiendish about the Hamako, belongs more to your
hneage than to mine ; this Hamako being, in truth, the
anchorite whom thou art come liither to visit."

"This I" said Sir Kenneth, looking at the athletic yet
wasted figure before him — " this ! — thou raockest, S.ira-
»en — this cannot be the venerable Theodorick ! "

72 WAVERLET NOVELS.

"Ask himself, if thou wilt not believe me," answered
Shcerkolif; and ere the words had left his mouth, the
hermit gave evidence in his own hehalf.

"I am Theodorick of Engaddi," he said — " I am the
walker of the desert — I am friend of the cross, and flail
of all infidels, heretics, and devil- worshippers. Avoid
ye, avoid ye ! — Down vrith Mahound, Termagaunt^ and all
their adherents ! " — So saying, he pulled from under his
shaggy garment a sort of flail, or jointed club, bound with
iron, which he brandished round his head with singular
dexterity.

" Thou see'st thy saint," said (he Saracen, laughing, for
the first time, at the unmitigated astonishment with which
Sir Kenneth looked on the wild gestures, and heard the
wayward nmttering of Theodorick, who, after swinging
his flail in every direction, apparently quite reckless
whether it encountered the head of either of his compan-
ions, finally showed liia own strength, and ihe soundness
of the weapon, by striking into fragments a large stone
which lay near him.

" This is a madman," said Sir Kenneth,

" Not the worse saint," returned the Moslem, speaking
according to the well-known Easteiu belief, that madmen
are under the influence of immediate inspiration, " Know,
Christian, that when one eye is extinguished, the other
becomes more keen — when one hand is cut off, the other
becomes more powerful ; so, when onr reason in human
things is disturbed or destroyed, our view heavenward
becomes more acute and perfect."

Here the voice of the Saracen was drowned in that of
the hermit, who began to hollo aloud in a wild chanting
tone,—" I am Theodorick of Engaddi — I am the torch-
brand of the desert — I am the flail of the infideb 1 The

TSC TALTSKAN.

lion nnd the leopard shall be my comrades, and draw nigh
to my cell for shelter ; neither shall the goal be afraid
of their fangs — I am the torch and the lantern — Kyrie
Eleiaon ! "

He closed his eoag by a short race, and ended
that again by three forward bounds, which would hare
done him great credit in a gymnastic academy, but be-
came his character of hermit so indifferently, that llie
Scottish knight wss altogether confoanded and bewil-

The Saracen seemed to understand him heller. " You
see," he said, " that he especta ua to follow him to his
cell, which, indeed, is our only plaee of refuge for the
night. Tou are the leopard, from the portrait on your
shield — I am the L'on, as my name imports — and, by the
goat, alluding to his garb of goatrskins, be means himself.
We must keep him in sight, however, for he is as fleet as
a dromedary.''

In fact, the task was a difficult one, for though the rev-
erend guide stopped from time to time, and waved his
hand, as if to encourage them to come on, yet, well ac-
quainted with all the winding dells and passes of the
desert, and gifted with uncommon activity, which, per-
haps, an unsettled state of mind kept iti constant exercise,
he led the knights through chasms, and along footpaths,
where even the light-armed Saracen, with hia well-trained
barh.was in considerable risk, and where the iron-sheathed
European, and his over-burdened horse, found themselves
in such imminent peril, as the rider would gladly have
exchanged for the dangers of a general action. Glad he
was when, at length, after this wild race, he beheld the
holy man who had led it standing in front of a cavern,
•rith a large torch in his hand, composed of a piece of

t.ET NOVELS.

wood dipped in bitmnen, which cast a broad and fliiJter* I
iDg light, and emilted a strong sulphurenns smell.

UndeteiTed by the stifling vapour, the knight threw I
himself from his horse and entered the cavern, which '
afforded small appearance of accommodalJon. The cell
was divided into two parts, in the outward of which v
an altar of stone, and a crucifix made of reeds. '
served the anchorite for Lis chapel. On one aide of this ■
outward cave the Christian knight, though not withoKj I
scruple, arising from religious reverence to the objects I
around, fastened up his horse, and arranged him for the |
night, in imiiation of the Saracen, who gave bin
dersland that such was the custom of the place. The I
hermit, meanwhile, was busied putting his inner apart- I
ment in order to receive his guests, and there they sooa I
joined him. At the bottom of the outer ca'
aperture, dosed with a door of rough plank, led into the I
sleeping apartment of the hermit, which was
modioua. The floor had been brought to a rough level ,
by the labour of the inhabitant, and then strewed v
white sand, which he daily sprinkled with water from a
small fountain which bubbled out of the rock Ji
ner, affording, in that stifling climate, refreshment alike
to the ear and the taste. Mattresses, wrought of twisted
flags, lay by the side of the cell ; the sides, like the floe
had been roughly brought to shape, and several herbs and
flowers were hung around them. Two waxen torches,
which the hermit lighted, gave a cheerful air lo the place,
which was rendered agreeable by its fi'agrance and cool-
There were implements of labour in one corner of the
apartment, in another was a niche for a rude statue of
Ahe Virgin. A table and two chairs showed that ihej

I

THK TALIBUAS.

must Le the hanJiwork of tlie andiorite, hslng different
in thtiir form from Oriental accommodations. The former
was covered, not only witb reeds and pulse, but also with
dried flesh, which Theodorick assiduously placed in such
arrangement as should invite the appetite of his guests.
This appeai'ance of courtesy, though mute, and expressed
by gesture only, seemed to Sir Kenneth sometliing en-
tirely irreconcilable with his former wild and violent
demeanour. The movements of the hermit were now
become composed, and apparently it was only a sense of
religious humiliation which prevented his features, ema-
ciated as they were by hia austere mode of life, from
being majestic and noble. He trade hia cell, as one who
seemed bom to rule over men, but who had abdicated hia
empire (o become the servant of Heaven. Still, it must
be allowed that his gigantic size, the length of hia un-
shaven lo!^ks and beard, and the fire of a deep-set and
wild eye, were rather attributes of a soldier than of a
recluse.

Even the Saracen seemed to regard the anchorite with
some veneration, while he was thus employed, and he
whispered in a low tone to Sir Kenneth, "The Hamako
is now in his better mind, but he will not speak until we
have eaten— such is his vow."

It was in silence, accordingly, that Theodorick mo-
tioned to the Scot to take hia place on one of the low
chairs, while Sheerkohf placed himself, after the custom
of hia nation, upon a cushion of mats. The hermit then
held up both hands, as if blessing the refreshment which
he had placed before his guests, and they proceeded to
eat in silence as profound as his own. To the Saracen
this gravity was natural, and the Christian imitated his
taciturnity, while he employed hie thoughts on the singn-

WAVEBLEY MOTELS.

76

larity of Lis own situation, and the conlrast befwixt tha
wild, furious gesticulations, loud cries, and fierce actiom 1
of Theodorick, when tbey fir^t met him, and the demuF%,1
solemn, decorous assiduity with which be now performed '
the duties of hospitality.

When their meal was eaded, the hermit, who had not
himself eaten a morsel, removed the fragments from the
table, and placing before the Saracen a pitcher of sherbet^
assigned to the Scot a flask of v

" Drink," he said, " my children," — they were the first |
words he had spoken, — " the ^fta of God are to bo ,
enjoyed, when the Giver is remembered."

Having said this he retired to the outward cell, prob« ]
ably for performance of his devotions, and left his guesta f
together in the inner apartment ; when Sir Kenneth en- ]
deavom-ed, by various questions, to di'aw from Sheerkohf
what that Emir knew concerning liia-host.
interested by more than mere curiosity in tbeae inquiries.
Difficult as it was to reconcile the outrageous demeanour
of the recluse at his first app^rance, to bis present bum-
ble and placid behaviour, it seemed yet more impossibia
to think it consistent with the high consideration in which,
according to what Sir Kenneth bad learned, this hermit
was held by the moat enUghtened divines of the Christian
world. Theodorick, the Hermit of Ecgaddi, had, in that
character, been the correspondent of popes and councils ;
to whom his letters, full of eloquent fervour, had described
the miseries imposed by the unbelievers upon the Latin
Christians in the Holy Land, in colours scarce inferior to
those employed at the Council of Clermont by the Hermit
Petei-, when he preached the first Crusade. To find, in
a person so reverend, and so much revered, the franlio
gestures of a mad fakir, induced the Christian knight W

J

THK TAI.18UAR.

77

pause ere he could resolve lo communicate to him certain
impoFlant matters, wliich he hail in charge from some of
the leaders of the Crusade.

It had been a main object of Sir Kenneth's pilgrimage,
attempted by a route so unusual, to make such communi-
cations ; but what he had that nigbt seen, induced him lo
pause and reflect ere he proceeded to the execution of his
commission. From the Emir he could not extract much
information, but the general tenor was as follows : — That,
as he had heard, the hermit had b6en once a brace and
valiant soldier, wise in council, and fortunate in battle,
which last he could easily believe from the great strength
and agility which he had often seen him display ; — that
, he had appeared at Jerusalem in the character not of a
pilgrim, bat in that of one who had devoted himself to
dwell for the remainder of his life in the Holy Land.
Shortly afterwards he fixed his repidence amid the scenes
of desolation where they now found him, respected by the
Latins for his austere devotion, and by the Turks and
Arabs on account of the symptoms of insanity which ha
displayed, and which they ascribed to inspiration. It was
from them he had the name of Hamako, which expresses
such a character in the Turkish language, Sheerkohf
himself seemed at a loss how to rank their host. He had
been, he said, a wise man, and could ofVen for many hours
together speak lessons of virtue or wisdom, without the
slightest appearance of inaccuracy. At other times he
was wild and violent, but never before had he seen him
so mischievously disposed as he had that day appeared to
he. His rage was chiefly provoked by any affront to his
religion ; and there was a story of some wandering Arabs,
who had insulted his worship and defaced bis altar, and
whom he had on that account attacked and slain with the

78 WATERLET NOTKLS,

short flail wliich he carried with him in lieu of all other
weapons. This incident had made a great noise, and it
was as much the fear of the hermit's ii'on flail, as regard
for his character as a HamaliO, which caused the roving
tribes to respect his dwelling and his chapel. Hia fame
had spread bo far, that Saladin had issued particular
orders that he should be spared and protected. He him-
self, and other Moslem lords of rank, had visited the cell
more than once, partly from curiosity, partly that they ex-
pected from a man so learned as the Christian Hamako,
some insight into the seoreta of futurity. " He had," con-
tinued the Saracen, " a rashid, or observatory, of great
height, contrived to view the heavenly bodies, and partic-
ularly the planetary system ; by who=e movements and ,
infiucnces, as both Christian and Moslem believed, ths
course of human events was regulated, and might be
predicted."

This was the substance of the Emir SheerkohPs infor-
mation, and it left Sir Kenneth iu doubt whelher iha
character of insanity arose from the occasional excessive
fervour of the hermit's zeal, or whether it was not alto-
gether fictitious, and assumed for the sake of the immuni-
ties which it afforded. Yet it seemed that the iuGdeh
had carried their complaisance towards him to an uncora- '
mou length, considering the fanaticism of the followers of
Mohammed, in the midst of whom he was living, though
the professed enemy of their faith. He thought also
there was more intimacy of acquaintance betwixt the
hermit and tie Saracen, than the words of the latter had
induced him to anticipate ; and it had not escaped him,
that the former had called the latter by a name different
from that which he himself had assumed. All these con-
eiderationa authorized caution, if not suspicion. He de-

lermined to observe hia host. closely, aod not to be over
hasty in commuaicating with him on the important charge
intrusted to him.

" Beware, Saracen," he said ; " methiakB our host's im-
agination wanders as well on the subject of names fia
upon other matters. Thy name is Sheorkohf, and he
called thee but now by another."

"My name, when in the tent of my father," replied the
Kurdman, " was Ederim, and by this I am still distin-
guished by muiij. In tbe field, and to soldiers, I am
known aa the Lion of the Mountflin, being the name my
good sword haib won for me. — But hush, tbe Hamako
comes — it is to wai'u us to rest — I know his euslom —
none must watch him at his vigils."

The anchorite accordingly entered, and folding his anus
on his bOEOm as he stood before them, said with a solemn
Toice, — " Blessed be His name, who hath appointed tlie
quiet night to follow the busy day, and the calm sleep to
refresh the wearied limbs, and to compose the troubled
spirit 1 "

Both warriors replied " Amen I " and, arising from the
table, prepared to betake themselvea to the couches, which
their host indicated by waving hia hand, as, making a
reverence to each, he again withdi'ew from the apartment.

The Knight of the Leopard then disarmed himaelf of
his heavy panoply, his Soracea companion kindly assist*
ing him to undo his buckler and clasps, until he remained
in the close dress of chamois leather, which knights and
men-at'arms used to wear under their harness. The
Saracen, if he had admired the strength of his adversary
when sheathed in steel, was now no less struck with the
accuracy of proportion displayed in his nervous and well-
compacted figure. The knight, on the other hand, as, in

80 WAVERLET NOVELS.

exchange of courtesy, he assisted the Saracen to disrobe
himself of his upper garments, that he might sleep with
more convenience, was, on his side, at a loss to conceive
how such slender proportions, and slimness of figure,
could be reconciled with the vigour he had displayed in
personal contest.

Each warrior prayed, ere he addressed himself to his
place of rest The Moslem turned towards his hebia^ the
point to which the prayer of each follower of the Prophet
. was to be addressed, and murmured his heathen orisons,
while the Christian, withdrawing from the contamination
of the infidel's neighbourhood, placed his huge cross-han-
dled sword upright, and kneeling before it as the sign of
udvation, told his rosary with a devotion, which was en-
hanced by the recollection of the scenes through which
he had passed, and the dangers from which he had been
rescued in the course of the day. Both warriors, worn
by toil and travel, were soon fiist asleep, each on his sep*
arate pallet.

^

XBB TALISlLUr.

CHAPTER IV.

Kenneth, the Scot, was uncertain how long his senses
had been lost in profound repose, when he was roused to '
recollection by a sense of oppresaion on his chesl, which
at first suggested a flitting dream of struggling with a
powerful opponent, and at length recalled him fully to his
senses. He was about to demand who was there, when,
opening his eyes, ho heheld the figure of the anchorite,
wild and savnge'looking as we have described him, stand-
ing hj his bedside, and pressing his right hand upon hia
breast, while he held a small silver lamp in the other, '

" Be silent," said the hermit, as the prostrate knight
looted up in surprise ; " I have that to say to you which
yonder infldel must not hear."

These words he spoke in the French language, and not
in the Lingua Franca, or compound of Eastern and Eu-
ropean dialects, which had hitherto been used amougst

" Arise," he continued, " put on thy mantle — speak not,
but tread lightly, and follow me."

Sir Kenneth arose, and took his sword.

"It needs not," answered the anchorite, in a whisper;
" we are going where spiritual arms avail much, and
fleshly weapons are but as the reed and the decayed

The knight deposited his sword by the bedside as be-

89 WAVBBLBT KOTELa.

fore, and, armed only with his dagger, from whicb. In this
perilous country, he never parted, prepared to attend hia
mysterioua liosL

The hermit then moTed sloivly forwards, and waa fol-
lowed by the knight, still under some uncertainty whether
Uie dark form which glided on befoi'e to show him the
path, waa not, in fact, the creation of a disturbed dream.
They passed, like shadows, ioto the outer apartment, with-
out disturbiiig the paynim Emir, who lay slill buried in
•repose. Before the cross and altar, in the outward room,
a lamp was still burning, a missal was displayed, and dq
the floor lay a discipline, or penitential scourge of small
cord and wire, the lashes of which were recently stained
with blood, a token, no doubt, of the severe penance of
the recluse. Here Theodoiick kneeled down, and pointed
to the knight to take hts place beside him upon the sharp
flints, which seemed placed for the purpose of rendering
■ the posture of reverential devotion as uneasy as possible ;
he read many prayers of the Catholic Church, and chant-
ed, in a low but earnest voice, three of the penitential
psalms. These last he intermixed with sighs and tears,
and convulsive throbs, which bore witness how deeply he
felt the divine poetry which he recited. The Scottish
knight assisted with profouod sincerity at these acts of
devotion, his opinions of his host beginning, in the mean-
time, to be BO much changed, that he doubted whether,
from the severity of his peoance, and the ardour of his
prayers, he ought not to regard him as a saint ; and when
they arose from the ground, he stood with reverence be-
fore him, as a pupil before an honoured master. The
hermit was oa hia aide silent and abstracted, for the space

"Look into yonder recess, my son," he said, pointing

-THS TAtlBlUiT.

63

10 tho farther comer of the cell ; " there thou will find a
veil — bring it hither,"

The knight obeyed ; and, in a small aperture cut oQl
of the wall, and secured with a door of wicker, he Ibund
the veil inquired for. When he brought it to the light,
he discovered that it was torn, and soiled in some places
with some dark substance. Tho anchorite looked at it
with a deep but smothered emotion, and ere he could
Epeuk to the Scottish knight, was compelled to veat his
feelings in a convulsive groan.

" Thou art now about to look upon the richest treaaure
that the earth po.'isesses," he at length said ; " woe ia me,
that laj eyes are unworlhy to be lifted towards it ! Alas !
I am but the vile and despised sign, which points out to
the wearied traveller a harlwur of rest and security, but
must itself remain for ever without doors. In vain Lave
I fled to the very depths of the rocks, and the very
bosom of the thirsty deseri. Mine enemy hath found me
— even he whom I have denied has pursued me to my
fortresses."

He paused again for a moment, and turning to the
Scottish knight, said, in a firmer tone of voice, " You
bring me a greeting from Richard of England ? "

" I come from the Council of Christian Princes," said
the knight ; " but the King of England being indisposed,
I am not honoured with his Majesty's commands."

"Tour token?" demanded the recluse.

Sir Kenneth hesitated — former suspicions, and the
marks of insanity which the hermit had formerly exhib-
ited, rushed suddenly on his thougbla ; but how suspect
a man whose manners were so saintly? — "My pass-
word," he said at length, " is this — Kings begged of a
beggar."

SI

WATEBLKT HOTELS.

" It is right," said the hermit, while he paused ; " I
know jou well; but the sentinel upon his post— and mine
is an important one — challenges friend as well as foe."

He then moved forward with the lamp, leading the
Tjay into the room which they had left. The Saracen '
lay on bis coucb, etill fast asleep. The hermit paused by
his side, and looked down on him.

" He sleeps," he said, " in darkness, and must not be

The attitude of the Emir did indeed convey the idea
of profound repose. One arm, flung across his body, as
be lay with his face half turned to the wall, concealed,
with its loose and long sleeve, the greater part of faia
face ; but the high forehead was yet visible. Its nervea,
which during his waking hours were so uncommonly
active, were now motionless, as if the face had been com-
posed of dark marble, and his long silken eyelashes closed
over his piercing and hawk-like eyes. The open and
relaxed hand, and the deep, regular, and sofl breathing,
gave all tokens of the most profound repose. The slum-
berer formed a singular group along with the tall forms
of the hermit in his shaggy dress of goat-skins, bearing
the lamp, and the knight in his close leathern coat ; the
former with an austere expression of ascetie gloom, the
latter with anxious curiosity deeply impressed on hia
manly features.

" He sleeps soundly," said the hermit, in the same low
as before, and repeating the words, though he had
changed the meaning from that which is literal to a
metaphorical sense, — " He sleeps in darkness, but there
shall be for him a day-spring. — 0, Ilderim, thy waking
thoughts are yet as vain and wild as those which are
wheeling their giddy dance through thy sleeping bmin ;

THB lALISlUK.

but the tnuupQt shall be heard, and the drenni shtill be
dissolved."

So saying, and making the tnight a sign to follow him,
the hermit went towards the altar, and poBsing behind
it, pressed a spring, which, opening without noise, showed
a small iron door wrought in the side of the cavern, so
as to be almost imperceptible, unless upon the most severe
scrutiny. The hermit, ere be ventured fully to open the
door, dropt some oil on the hinges, which the lamp sup-
plied. A small staircase, hewn in the rock, was discovered,
when the iron door was at length completely opened.

"Take the veil which I hold," said the hermil, in a
melancholy tone, "and blind mine eyes; ibr I may not
look on the treasure which Ihou art presently to behold,
without sin and presumption."

Without reply, the, knight hastily muffled the recluse's
head in the veil, and the latter began to ascend the sinir-
case as one too much accustomed to the way to require
the use of light, while at the same time he held the lamp
to the Scot, who followed him for many steps up the
narrow ascent. At length they rested in a small vault
of irregular form, in one nook of which the staircase
terminated, while in another corner a corresponding stair
was seen to continue the ascent. In a third angle was a
Gothic door, very rudely ornamented with the usual at-
tributes of clustered columns and carving, and defended by
a wicket, strongly guarded with iron, and studded with
large nails. To this last point the hermit directed his
steps, which seemed to falter as he approached it.

"Put off thy shoes," he said to his attendant; "the
ground on which thou staadest is holy. Banish from thy
mnerraost heart each profane and carnal thought, for to
harbour such while in this place, were a deadly impiety."

86

WATKBLET NOVELS.

TliG knight laid aside his shoes as he was ci
and the hermit stood in the meanwhile as if communiDg
with his soul in secret pmyer, and when he again moved,
commanded the knight to knock at the wicket three times.
He did so. The door opened spontaneousij, at leaat Sir
Kenneth beheld no one, and his senses were at once as-
sailed by a slreani of the purest light, and by a strong and
almost oppressive sense of the richest perfmnes. He
stepped two or three paces back, and it was the space of
a minute ere he recovered the dazzling and overpowering
effects of the sudden change from darkness to light.

When he entered the apartment in which this hrilliant
lustre was displayed, he perceived that the light pro-
ceeded from a combination of silver lamps, fed with
purest oil, and sending forth the richest odours, hanging
by silver chains from the roof of a small Gothic chapel,
hewn, like most part of the hermit's singular mansion,
out of the sound and solid rock. But, whereas, in every
other place which Sir Kenneth had seen, the labour em-
ployed upon the rock had been of the simplest and
coarsest description, it had in this chapel employed the
invention and the chisels of the most able architects.
The groined roofs rose from six columns on each side,
carved with the rarest skill ; and the manner in which
the crossings of the concave arches were bound together,
as it were, with appropriate ornaments, were all in the
finest lone of the architecture, and of the age. Corre-
sponding to the line of pillars, there were on each side
sis: richly wrought niches, each of which contained the
image of one of the twelve apostles.

At the upper and eastern end of the chapel stood the
allar, behind which a very rich curtain of Persian silk
embroidered deeply with gold, covered a recess, contain-

THE TALisaujr.

ing, unqnestionably, some-image or relic of no ordiiiarj
sanctity, in honour of whom this singular place of worship
had been erected. Under the persuasion that this mast
be the case, the knight advanced to the shrine, and kneel-
ing down before it, repeated his devotions with fervency,
during which his attention was disturbed by the curtain
being suddenly raised, or rather pulled aside, how or by
whom he saw not; but in the niche which was thus dis-
closed, he beheld a cabinet of silver and ebony, with a
double folding door, the whole formed into the miuiatore
resemblance of a Gothic church.

As he gaaed with anxious curiosity on the alirine, the
two folding doors also flew open, discovering a large
piece of wood, on which were blazoned the words, Veea
Crux, at the same lime a choir of female voices sung
Gloria Patri. The instant the strain had ceased, the
shrine was dosed, and the curtain again drawn, and the
knight who knelt at the altar might now continue bis
devotions undisturbed, in honour of the holy relic which
had been just disclosed lo his view. He did this under
the profound impression of one who had witnessed, with
his own eyes, an awful evidence of the truth of hia
religion, and it was some time ere, coucluding hia orisons,
he arose, and ventured lo look around him for the hermit,
who had guided hitn to this sacred and mysterious spot.
He beheld him, hia bead still muffled in the veil, which
he had himself wrapped around it, couching, like a rated
hound, upon the threshold of the cliapel ; but, apparently,
without venturing to cross it ; the holiest reverence, the
most penitential remorse, was expressed by his posture,
which seemed that of a man borne down and crushed to
Ihe earth by the burden of his inward feelings. It
seemed lo the Scot, that only the sense of the deepest

WATBKLET KOTStH.

pL'nilence, remorse, and bumHiation, could ha\e tlius
prostrated a frame bq strong, and a spirit so fiery.

He approached bim as if to speak, but the recluae an-
tieipated bis purpose, murmuring in stifled tones, from
beneatb the fold in wbicb bis head was muffled, and whicb
Bounded like a voice proceeding from tbe cerements of 0
corpse, — "Abide, abide — bappy tbou ibat niay'st — Ih(
vision is not yet ended." — So saying, he reared himself
from the ground, drew back from the threshold on which
he had hitherto lain prostrate, and citKted the door of tbe
chaptil, which, secured by a spring^bolt within, tbe snap
of which resounded through tbe place, appeared so much
like a part of the living rock from whieb tbe cavern was
hewn, that Kenneth could hardly discern where the
aperture bad been. He was now alone in the lighted
chapel, which contained the relic to wbicb he bad lately
rendered his homage, without other arms than bis dagger,
or other companion than bis pious thoughts and dauntless
courage.

Uncertain what was next to happen, but resolved to
abide the course of events. Sir Kenneth paced the soli-
tary chapel till about the time of the earliest cock crow-
ing. At this dead season, when night and morning met
together, he heard, but from what quarter he could not
discover, tbe sound of such a small silver hell as is rung
at the elevation of the host, in the ceremony, or sacrifice,
OS it lias been called, of the mass. The hour and the
place rendered the sound fearfully solemn, and, bold as
he was, tbe kniglit withdrew himself into the farther nook
of the chapel, at llie end opposite to the altar, in order to
observe without interruption, tbe consequences of this
unexpected signal.

He did not nut long ere the silken curtain waa agaia

the lauds, c
by female
formance a
knight was
aialioiiarj-

withdrawn, and the relic again presented to his view. A3
iialiy on his knee, he heard the sound of
earliest office of the Catholic church, sung
foices, whinh united together in the per-
they had done ia the former service. The
soon aware that the voices were no longer
the distance, hut approached the chapel and
became louder, when a door, imperceptible when cloaed,
like that by which he had himself entered, opened on the
other side of the fault, and gave the tones of the ehoit
more i-oom to swell along the ribbed arches of the roof.

The knight fixed hia eyes on the opening with breath-
lesa anxiety, and, continuing to kneel in the attitude of
deFoiion which the place and scene required, ejtpected
the consequence of these preparations. A proceaaion
appeared about to issue from the door. First, four
beautiful boys, whose arms, neck, and legs were bare,
showing the bronze complexion of the Bast, and con-
trasting with the snow-white tunics which they wore,
entered the chapel by two and two. The firet ptur bora
censers, which they swung from side to side, adding
double fragrance lo the odours with which the chapel
already was impregnated. The second pair scattered
flowers.

After these followed, in doe and majestic order, the
females who composed the choir; six, who, from their
black scapularies, and black veils over their while gar-
ments, appeared to be professed nnns of the order of
Mount Carmel ; and aa many whose veils, being white
argued them to be novices, or occasional Inhabiliints ii
the cloister, who were not as yet bound lo it by vows.
The former held in their hands large rosaries, while the
younger and lighter figures who followed, carried oacb a

90 WAVBRLET NOVELS.

chaplet of red and white roses. They moved in prooes-
eion around the chapel, without appearing to take Iha
slightest notice of Kenneth, although passing so near him
that their robes almost touched him ; while they con-
tinued to sing, the knight doubted not that he was in one
of those cloisters where the noble Christian maidens had
formerly openly devoted ttemaelves to the services of the
church. Most of them had been suppressed since the
Mahometans had reconquered Palestine, but many, pur-
chasing connivance by presents, or receiving it fi'oin the
clemency or conlempt cf the victors, still continued to
observe ia private the ritual to which their vows had
consecrated them. Tet, though Kenneth knew this to be
the case, the solemnity of the place and hour, the sur-
prise at the sudden appearance of these votresses, and
the visionary manner in which they moved past him, had
such influence on his imagination, that he could scarce
conceive that the fair procession which he beheld was
formed of creatures of this world, so much did they re-
semble a choir of supernatural beings, rendering homage
to the universal object of adoration.

Such was the knight's first idea, as (he procession
passed him, scarce moving, save just sufficiently to con-
tinue their progress ; so tliat, seen by the shadowy and
religious light, which the lamps shed through the clouds
of incense which darkened the apartment, they appeared
rather to glide than to walk.

But aa a second time, in surrounding the chapel, they
passed tlie spot on which he kneeled, one of the white-
stoled maidens, as she glided by him, detached from the
chaplet which she carried a rose-bud, which dropped from
her fingers, perhaps unconsciously, on the foot of Sir
Kenneth The knight started as if a dart had suddenly

THE TALISMAN.

91

Btruck his person ; for, when the mind is wound up to a
higli pitch of feeling and expectation, the slightest in-
cident, if unexpected, gives fire to the train which imagi-
nation has already laid. But he suppressed his emotion,
recollecting how easily an incident so indifferent might
have happened, and that it was only the uniform monot'
ony of the movement of the choristers, which made tho
incident in the slightest degree reniarkahle.

Still, while the procession, for the third time, sur-
rounded the chapel, the thoughts and the eyes of Ken-
neth followed exclusively the one among tlie novices who
had dropped the rose-bud. Her step, her face, her Ibrm,
were so completely assimilated lo the rest of the choris-
ters, that it was impossible to perceive the least marks of
individuality, and yet Kenneth's heart throbbed like a
bird that would burst from its cage, as if to assure him,
by its sympathetic suggestions, that (te female who held
the right file on the second rank of the novices, was
dearer to him, not only than all the rest that were present,
but than the whole sex besides. The romantic passion
of love, as it was cherished, and indeed enjoined, by the
rules of chivalry, associated well with the no less roraantie
feelings of devotion ; and they might be said much more
to enhance iban to counteract each other. It was, there-
fore, with a glow of expectation, that had something even
of a religious character, that Sir Kenneth, his sensations
thrilling from his heart to the ends of his fingers, ex-
pected some second sign of the presence of one, who, he
strongly fancied, had already bestowed on him the fii'st.
Short as the space was during which the procession
again completed a third perambulation of the cbapel, it
seemed an eternity lo Kenneth. At length the form,
which he bad watched with such devoted attention, drew

nigli — lliei-e was no difference betwixt that shrouded
figure aad the others, with whom it moved iu concert Hnd
in unison, until, just as she passed for the third time the
kneeling Crusader, a part of a litfle and well-proportioned
hand, bo beautilully formed as to ^ve the highest idea of
the perfect pi-oportions of the form (o which it belonged,
stole through tlie folds of the gauze, like a moonbeom
through the fleecy cloud of a summer night, and again a
rose-bud lay at the feet of the Knight of the Leopard.

This second intimation could not be accidental — it could
not be fortuitous the resemblance of that half-seen, but
beautiful female hand, with one which his lips had once
touched, and, while they touched it, had internally sworn
allegiance to the lovely owner. Had farther proof been
wanting, there waa the glimmer of that matchlesa ruby
ring on that snow-wliite finger, whose invaluable worth
Kenneth would yet have prized less than the slightest
sign which that finger could have made — and, veiled too,
as she was, he might see, by chance, or by favour, a stray
curl of the dark tresses, each hair of which was dearer to
him a hundred times than a chain of massive gold. It
waa the lady of his love ! But that she should he here
' — in the savage and sequestered desert — among vestala,
who rendered themselves habitants of wilds and of
caverns, that they might perform in secret those Chris-
tian rites which they dared not assist in openly — that this
should be so — in truth and in reality — seemed too incred-
ible— it must be a dreaio — a delusive trance of the
imagination. While these thoughts passed through the
mind of Kenneth, the same passage, by which the pro-
cession had entered the chapel, received them on ibeir
retura. The young sacristans, the sable nuns, vanished
■nccessively through the open door — at length she I'rom

whom he had received this double intimation, passed also
— yet, in passing, turned her head, slightly indeed, but
perceptibly, towards the place where he remained fixed
as an image. He marked the last wave of her veil— it
waa gone — and a daiknesa sunk upon his soul, scarce less
palpable than that which almoat immediately envelopied
his exlemal sense ; for the last chorister hnd no sooner
crossed the threshold of the door, than it shut with a loud
fiound, and at the same inataDt the voices of tlie choir
were silent, the lights of the chajicl were at once ex-
tinguished, and Sir Kenneth remained solitary, and in
total darkness. But to Kenneth, solitude, and darkness,
and the uncertainty of his mysterious situation, were as
nolhing — he thought not of tLem — cared not for thera —
cared for nought in the world save the flitting vision
which had just glided past him, and the tokens of her
favour which she had bestowed. To grope on the floor
for the buds which she had dropped — to preirS them to hia
lips— to his bosom — now alternately, now together — lo
rivet his lips lo the cold stones on which, as near as he
could judge, she had so lately stept — to play ail tlie ex-
travagances which Etrong affection suggests and vindicates
to those who yield themselves up to it, were but the tokeoi
of passionate love, proper to all ages. But it was peculiar
to the times of chivalry, that in his wildest rapture the
knight imagined of no attempt to follow or to trace the
object of such romantic attachment; that he thought of
her as of a deity, who, having deigned to show herself
for an instant to her devoted worshipper, had again re-
turned to the darkness of ber sanctuary — or as an in-
fluential planet, which, having darted in Eome auspicious
minute one favourable ray, wrapped itself again in its
veil of mist. The motions of the lady of his love wnra

94

WATERLEr NOVELS.

lo liim tlio3P of a superior bciag, who wa? to move with-
out ivalch or coutrol, rejoice him by her appeanuice, or
depress him by her abaeoce, anunate him by her kind-
ness or drive him to desijoir by her cruelty — all at her
own free will, aad without other importunity or remon- ,
Btracce than that expressed by the most devoted services
of t!ie heart aad sword of the champion, whose pole
object in life was to fulfil her commands, and, by the
splendour of his own achievements, lo exalt her fame.

Such were the rules of chivalry, and of the love which
was its ruling principle. But Sir Kenneth's attachment
was rendered romantic by other and still more peculiar
circumstances. He had never even heard the sonnd of
his lady's voice, though he had often beheld her beauty
with rapture. She moved in a circle, which his rank of
knighthood permitted him indeed to approach, but not to
mingle with ; and highly as he stood distinguished for
warlike skill and enterprise, still the poor Scottish soldier
was compelled to worship his divinity at a distance, almost
as great as divides the Persian from the sun which be
adores. But when was the pride of woman too lofty to
overlook the passionate devotion of a lover, however in-
ferior in degree ? Her eye had been on him in the tour-
nament, her ear had heard his praises in (he report of the
battles which were daily fought ; and while count, duke,
and lord, contended for her grace, it flowed, unwillingly
perhaps at first, or even unconsciously, towards the poor
Knight of the Leopard, who, to support his rank, had
little besides his sword. When she looked, and when she
listened, the lady saw and heard enough lo encourage her
in her partiahty, which bad at first crept on her unawares.
If a knight's personal beauty was praised, even the most
prudish dames of the military court of England would

TBE TALISXAH.

make an exeeption in favour of the Scottish Keonetli
and it oftentimes liappeneJ, that nnlwithstiinding the very
considerable largesses which princes and peers hestowed
on the minstrels, an impartial spirit of independence
would seize the poet, and the harp van swept to the hero-
ism of one, who had neither palfrejs nor garments to
bestow in guerdon of his applause.

The momenta when she listened to the praises of her
lover became gradualij more and more dear to the high-
born Edith, relieving the flattery with which her ear was
weary, und presenting to her a subject of secret contem-
plation, more worthy, aa he seemed by general report,
than those who surpassed him !□ rank and in tJie gifts of
fortune. Aa her attention became constantly, ihough
cautiously, fixed on Sir Kenneth, she grew more and
more convinced of his personal devotion to herself, and
more and more certain in her mind, that in Kenneth of
Scotland she beheld (he fated knight doomed to slrnre
with her through weal and woe — and the prospect looked
gloomy and dangerous — the passionate attachment to
which the poets of the age ascribed such universal domin-
ion, and which its manners and morals placed nearly on
the same rank with devotion itself.

Let us not disguise the truth from our readers. When
Edith became aware of the state of her own Bentiments,
chivalrous as were her sen timents, becoming a maiden not
distant from the throne of England — gratified as her
pride must have been with the mute though unceasing
homage rendered to her by the knight whom she had dis-
tinguished, there were moments when the feelings of the
woman, loving and beloved, murmured against the re-
straints of state and form by which she was surrounded,
Bud when she almost blamed the timidity of hor lover

9fl WAYEHLET HOVILS.

wlio seenieJ reoolveil not lo infringe them. The eti-
quette, to use ft raoderD phrase, of birth and rank, had
drawn around her a magical t'ircle, beyond which Sir
Kenneth might indeed bow and gaze, but within which
he could no more pass, than tin evoked spirit can trans-
gress the boundaries prescribed by the rod of a powerful
enchanter. The thought . involuntarily pressed on her
that she herself musL venture, were it but the point of
her fairy foot, beyond the prescribed boundary, if she
ever hoped to give a. lover, so reserved and bashful, aa
opportunity of so alight a favour, as hut to salute her
shoe-tie. There waa an example, the noted precedent of
the " King's daughter of Hungary," who thus generously
encouraged the " Squire of low degree ; " and Edith,
though of kingly blood, was no King's daughter, any
more than her lover was of low degree — fortune had put
no such extreme barrier in obstacle to their affections.
Something, however, within the maiden's bosom — that
modest pride, which throws fetters even on love itself —
forbade her, not witha landing the superiority of her condi-
tion, to make those advances, which, in every case, deli-
cacy assigns to the other sex ; above all, Sir Kenneth
was a knight so gentle and honourable, so highly aco
plished — as her imagination at least suggested, together
with the strictest feelings of what was due to himself and
to her — ^that however constrained her attitude might be
while receiving his adorations, like the image of some
deity, who is neither supposed to feel nor to reply to
homage of its votaries, still tlie idol feared that to step
prematurely from her pedestal, would be to degrade her-
self in the eyes of her devoted worshipper.

'Yet the devout adorer of an actual idol can even dis-
cover signs of approbation in the rigid and immovable

THE TiiUSKAir.

feafiii'es of a martle image, and it is no wonder that
Bomething, which could be aa favourabfy interpreled,
glanced frmn the bright eye of the lovely Edith, whoso
beauty, iDdeed, consisted rather more in that very power
of expression, than on absolute regularity of contour, or
brilliancy of complexion. Some slight marks of distinc-
tion had escaped from her, notwithstanding her own jeal-
ous vigilance, else how could Sir Kenneth have so readily,
and so undoubtingly, recognised the lovely hand, of which
scarce two fingers were visible from under the veil, or
how could he have rested so thoroughly assured that two
flowers, successively dropt on the spot, were intended as
a recognition on the part of his lady-love ? By what
train of observation — by what secret signs, looks, or ges-
tures— by what instinctive free-masonry of love, this de-
gree of intelligence came to subsist between Edith and
her lover, we cannot attempt to trace ; for we ai-e old,
and such slight vestiges of affectioa, quickly discovered
by younger eyes, defy the power of ours. Enough, that
such affection did subsist between parties who had never
even spoken to one another, though, on the side of Edith,
it was checked by a deep sense of the difficulties and
dangers which must necessarily attend the farther pro-
gress of their attachment, and upon that of Ihe knight
by a thousand doubts and fears, lest Le had over-esti-
mated the alight tokens of the lady's notice, varied, as
Ihey necessarily were, by long intervals of apparent cold-
ness, during which, either the fear of exciting the obser-
vation of others, and thus drawing danger upon her lover,
or that of sinking in his esteem by seeming too willing to
be won, made her behave with indifference, and aa if un-
observant of his presence.

This narrative, tedious perhaps, but which the story

98

WAVERLET NOVELS.

renders necessary, may serve to explain the state of in-
telligence, if it deserves so strong a name, betwixt the
lovers, when Edith's unexpected appearance in the chapel
produced so powerful an effect on the feelings of her
knight

The most profound sileacc, tlie deepest darkness, con-
linued to brood for more than an Lour over the chapel in
which we lefl the Knight of the Leopard stilL kneehng,
alteraately expressing thanks to Henven, and gratitude
to iis hidy, for the boon which had been vouchsafed to
him. His own safety, his own destiny, for which he was
at all timea little a,nxJouB, had not now the weight of ft
grain of dust in his reflections. He was in the neigh-
bourhood of Lady Editb, he had received tokens of her
grace, he was in a place hallowed by relics of the most
awful sanctity. A Christian soldier, a devoted lover,
could fear nothing, think of nothing, but hia dnty to
Heaven, and his devoir to his lady.

At the lapse of the apace of time which we have no-
ticed, a shrill whistle, like that with which a falconer calla
his hawk, was heard to ring sharply through the vaulted
chapel. It was a sound ill suited to the place, and re-
minded Sir Kenneth how necessary it was he should be
upon bis guard. He started from his knee, and laid hia
haijd upon his poniard. A creaking sound, as of a screw
or pulley!>, succeeded, and a light streaming upwards, at

ITAVEELKT NOT EL 8.

n the floor, showed that a

been raised or depressed. In leas than a minute, a long
ekjnuy arm, partly noted, partly clothed in a sleeve of red
samile, arose out of the aperture, holding a lamp aa high

as it could stretch upwards, and the &

0 which the

arm belonged, ascended step by step to the level of the
chapel floor. The form and face of the being who thus
presented himself, wore those of a frightful dwarf, with a
large head, a cap faotastically adorned with three peacock*
feathers, a dress of red samite, the richness of which ren-
dered his ugliness more conspicuous, distinguished by gold
bracelets and armlels, and a white silk sash, in which he
wore a gold-hiltcd dagger. This singular figure had in
Lis left hand a kind of broom. So soon as he had stepped
from the aperture through which he arose, he stood still,
and, as if to show himself more distinctly, moved the lamp
which he held slowly over his face and person, sucees-
eively illumiDating his wild and fantastic features, and his
misshapen, but nervous limbs. Though disproportion ed
in person, the dwarf was not so distorted as to argue any
want of strength or activity. While Sir Kenneth gazed
on this disagreeable object, the popular creed occurred to
his remembrance, concerning the gnomes, or earthly spir-
its, which make their abode in the caverns of the eartli ;
and so much did this figure correspond with ideas he had
formed of their appearance, that he looked on it with dis-
gust, mingled not indeed with fear, but that sort of awe
which the presence of a supernatural creature may infuse
into the most steady bosom.

The dwarf again whistled, and summoned from beneath
a companion. This second figure ascended in th
manner as the first; but it was a female arm,
second instance, which upheld the lamp from the subler-

]
1

I

ranean vault out of which these -pre^nt me nta arose, and
it was a female form, much resejsiliHiig the first in shape
and proportiong, which slowlj eioecged from the floor.
Hi;r dress was also of red samite, fabta^coll/ cut and
flounced, as if she had been dressed foE ^in.e exhibition
of mimes or jugglers ; and with the saitfe minuteness
which her predecessor bad exhibited, she passed the lamp
over her face and person, which seemed to rival fkii male
in ugliness. But, with all Ihis most unfavourable eil«ric>r,
ihere was one trait in the features of both which argUed
alertness and intelligence in the most uncommon degree.
This arose from the brilliancy of their eyes, which, deep
set beneath black and shaggy brows, gleamed with a
lustre which, like that in the eye of the toad, seemed to
make some amends for the extreme ugliness of counte-
nance and person.

■Sir Kenneth remained as if spell-bound, while this un-
lovely pair, moving round the chapel close to each other,
appeared to perform the duty of sweeping it, like menials ;
but, as they used only one hand, the floor was not much
benefited by the exercise, which they plied with such
oddity of gestures and manner, as befitted their bizarre
and fantastic appearance. When they approached near
to the knight, in the course of ihou- occupation, they
ceased to use their brooms, and placing themselves side
by side, directly opposite to Sir Kenneth, they again
slowly shilled the lights which they held, so as to allow
him distinctly to survey features which were not rendered
more agreeable by being brought nearer, and to observe
the extreme quicfcaeas and keenness with which their
black and glittering eyes flashed back the light of the
lamps. They then turned the gleam of both lights upon
the knight, and having accurately surveyed him, turned

their faces to each othec,\{ilid set up a loud yelKng laugti,
which resounded irf oia'ears. The souud was so gbjistly,
thiit Sir Kennetji'^started at hearing it, and hastily de-
ided, in th'e 'qaxaa of God, who they were who pro-
faned that ltpn>.place with euch antic gestures and elritch
exclamations.

" J'-.ain.* the dwarf Nectabanos," said the abortion-
saeiiing' male, in a voice corresponding to hia figure, and
rt^ettbling the voice of the night-crow more than any-
Soon d which ia heard by daylight.

" Aud I am Guenevra, his lady and hia love," replied
the female, in tones which, being shriller, were yet wilder
than those of her compaaioa.

" Wlierefore are you here ? " again demanded the
knight, scarcely yet assured that it was human beings
which be saw before him.

" I am," replied the mala dwarf, with much asanmed
gravity and dignity, " the twelfth Imaum — I am Mahoin-
med Mohadi, the guide and the conductor of the faithful.
An hundred hordes stand ready saddled for me and my
train at the Holy City, and as many at the City of
Befuge. I am he who shall bear witness, and this is one
of my houris."

" Thou liest I " answered the female, interrupting her
companion, in tones yet shriller than his own ; " I am
none of thy houris, and thou art no such infidel trash as
the Mahommed of whom thou speakest. May my curse
rest upon hia coflin ! — I teU thee, thou aas of lasachar,
thou art King Arthur of Britain, whom the fairies stole
away from the field of Avalon ; and I am Dame Gue- .
nevru, famed for her beauty."

" But in truth, noble sir," said the male, "we are dis-
tressed princes, dwelling under the wing of King Guy of

Jerusalem, until lie nas driven out &am hia own nest bj
the foul infidels — Heaven's bolls coneume iliem 1 "

" Husb," Eaid a voice from the side upon which the
knight had eutered — "Hush, fools, aad begone; jour
miniijlry is ended."

The dwarfs had do sooner heard the command, than
gibbering iu discordajit whispers to eajjh other, they blew
out their lights at once, and left the knight in ulter dark-
ness, which, when the pattering of their retiring feet had
died away, was soon accompanied by ita fittest companion,
total silence,

The knight felt the departure of these unfortunate
cre9.tures a relief. He could not, from, their language,
manners, _and appearance, doubt that they belonged to
the degraded class of beings, whom deformity of person,
and weakness of intellect, recommended to the painful
situation of appendages to great families, where their
pBrsonal appearance and imbecility were food ibr merri-
ment to the household. Superior in no respect to the
ideas and manners of his time, the Scottish knight might,
at another period, have been much amused by the mum-
mery of these poor effigies of humanity ; but now, their
appearance, gesticulations, and language, broke the train
of deep and solemn feeling with which he was impressed,
and he rejoiced in the disappearance of the unhappy
objects.

A few minutes after they had retired, the door at
which he had entered opened slowly, and, remaining
ajar, discovered a faint light arising from a lantern placed
upon the threshold. Its doubtful and wavering gleam
showed a dark form reclined beside the entrance, but
jfithout ita precincts, which, on approaching it more
nearly, he recognised to be the hermit, couching in the

104

WAVKKLET NOTBLS.

Eame humble posture in which he had at first laid him*
self down, and which doubtless he had retained during
the whole time of his guent's continuing in the chapel.

"All is over," said the hermit, as he heard the knight
approaching — " and the most wretched of earthly ainnera,
with him, who should think himself most honoured and
most happy among the race of humanity, must retire
from this place. Tate the light, and guide me down the
descent, for I may not uncover my eyes until I am far
from this hallowed spoL"

The Scottish knight obeyed in silence, for a solemn
and yet ecstatic sense of what he had seen had silenced
even the eager woi-kings of curiosity. He led the lyay,
with considerable accuracy, through the various secret
passages and stairs by which they had ascended, until at
length they found themselves in the outward cell of the
hermit's cavern.

"The condemned criminal is restored to his dungeon,
reprieved from one miserable day to another, until hia
awful judge shall at length appoint the weU-deserved
fleutence to be carried into execution."

As the hermit spoke these words, he laid aside the veil
with which his eyes had been bound, and looked at it
with a suppressed and hollow sigh. No sooner had he
restored it to the crypt from which he had caused the
Scot to bring it, than he said hastily and sternly to his
companion — " Begone, begone, — to rest, to rest. Tou
may sleep — you can sleep — I neither can nor may."

Respecting the profound agitation with which this was
spoken, the knight retired into the inner cell ; but, cast-
ing back his eye as be left the exterior grotto, he beheld
the anchorite stripping his shoulders with frantic haste,
of their shaggy mantle, and ere he could shut the frail

door which aeparated the two compartments of the cavern,
Le heard the clang of the scourge, and the gronns of the
penitent under his self-inflicted penance. A cold shudder
r the knight as he reflected what could be the
foulneae of the sin, what the depth of the remorse, which,
apparently, such severe penance could neither cleanse
nor assuage. He told his beads devoutly, and flung him-
self on his rude couch, after a glance at the still sleeping
Moslem, and, wearied by the various scenes of the day
and the night, soon slept as sound as infancy. Upon his
awaking in the morning, he held certain conferences with
the hermit upon mailers of importance, and the result of
their inlerconrse induced him to remain for two days
longer in the grotto. He was regular, as became a pil-
grim, in his devotional exercises, but was not again ad-
mitted to the chapel in which he had seen such wonders.

WAVBRLSY K0VBL8.

CHAPTER VI.

The Bcene must change, as our programme has an-
Doimcecl, from Ibe mountain wildcrneas of Jordan to tho
camp of King Kichard of England, then stationed betwixt
Jean d'Acre and Ascalon ; and containing that army with
which be of the Lion Heart had promised himself a
triumphant march to Jerusalem, and in which he would
probably have succeeded, if not hindered by the jealousies
of the Chriatiao princes engaged in the same enterprise,
and the offence taken by them at the uncurbed haughti-
ness of the English monarch, aird Richard's unveiled
contempt for his brother sovereigns, who, his equals in
rank, were yet far his inferiors in courage, hardihood,
and military talents. Such discords, and particularly
those betwiit Eichard and Philip of France, created
disputes and obstacles which impeded every active meas-
ure proposed by the heroic though impetuous Richard,
while the ranka of the Crusaders were daily thinned, not
only by the desertion of individuals, but of entire bands,
headed by their respective feudal leaders, who withdrew
from a contest in which they had ceased to hope for sue-

The effects of the climate became, as usual, fatal t«

soldiers from the north, and the tnai-e so ihat tlie dissolule
license of the Crosadera, forming a singular eonlrast to
the principles and purpose of their taking up arms, ren-
dered them more easy victims to the insaluhrious influence
of burning heat and chilling dews. To these discouraging
causes of loss was to be added the aword of the enemy.
Saladin, than whom no greater name is recorded in East-
ern history, had learnt, to Lis fatal experience, that his
light-armed followers were little able to meet in close
encounter ivith the iron-clad Franke, and had been taught,
at the same time, to apprehend and dread the adventurous
character of his antagonist Richard. But if liis armies
were more than once routed with great slaughter, his
numbers gave [he Saracen the advantage in those lighter
skirmishes, of which many were inevitable.

As the array of liis assailants decreased, the enlerpriges
of Hit. Sultan became more numerous and more bold in
this species of petty warfare. The camp of the Crusaders
was surrounded, and almost besieged, by clouds of light
cavalry, resembling swarma of wasps, easily crushed
when they are once grasped, but furnished with wings to
elude superior strength, and stings to inflict harm and
mischief. There was perpetual warfare of posts and
foragers, in which many valuable lives were lost, without
any corrcspon^ng object being gained ; convoys were
intercepted, and communications were cut olT. The Cru-
saders had lo purchase the means of sustaining life, by
life itself; and water, like that of the well of Belhlehem,
longed for by King David, one of its ancient monarchs,
was then, as before, only obtained by the expenditure of
blood.

These evils were, in a great measure, counterbalanced
by the etem resolution and restless activity of King

108 WATEHtET S0VEL8.

Richard, wlio, wiih some of his best knights, was ever on
horseback, ready to repair to any point where danger
occnrred, and often, not only bringing unexpected succour
to the Christians, but discomfiting ihe infidels when they
seemed most secure of victory. But even the iron frame
of Oedf de Lion could not support, without injnry, the
alternations of the unwholesome climate, joined to cease-
less exertions of body and mind. He became afflicted
with one of thoee slow and wasting fevers peculiar to
Asia, and, in despite of his great strength, and still
greater courage, grew first unfit to mount on horseback,
and then unable to attend the councils of war, which
were, from time to time, held by the Crusaders. It was
difficult to say whether this State of personal inactivity
was rendered more galling or more endurable to the
Englir^h monarch, by the resolution of the council lo en-
gage in a truce of thirty days with the Sultnn Saladin ;
for, on the one hand, if he was incensed at the delay
which this interposed to Ihe progress of the great enter-
prise, he was, on the other, somewhat consoled by know-
ing that others were not acquiring laurels, while he
remained inactive upon a sick-bed.

That, however, which Crour de Lion could least ex-
cuse, was the general inactivity which prevailed in the
camp of the Crusaders, so soon as his illness assumed a
serious aspect ; and the reports which he extracted from
his unwilling attendants gave him to undei'sland, that the
hopes of the host had abated in proportion to his illness,
and that the interval of truce was employed, not in re-
cruiting their numbers, reanimating their courage, foster-
ing their spirit of conquest, and preparing for a speedy
and determined advance upon the Holy City, which was
the object of their expedition, but in securing the i;arap

J

TBS TALIBHAS.

10»

occupied by their diminished followers, «'il!i Ircnclies,
palisade!, and oClier fortification?, as if preparing rather
Id repel au attack from a powerful enemy bo soon as hos-
tilities should recommence, Clian to assume the proud
character of conquerors and assailants.

The English king chafed under these reports, like tha
imprisoned lion viewing his prey from the iron barriers
of his cage. Naturally rash and impetuous, the irritabil-
ity of his temper preyed on itself. He was dreaded by
his attendants, and even the medical assistants feared to
assume the necessary authority, which a physician, to da
justice to his patient, must needs exercise orer him.
One faithful baron, who, perhaps, from the congenial na-
ture of his disposition, was devoutly attached to tlie King's
person, dared alone to come between the dragon and his
wroth, and quietly, but firmly, maintained a control which
no other dared assume over the dangerous inviJid, and
which Thomas de Mullon only exercised, because he es-
teemed his sovereign's life and honour more than he did
the degree of favour which he might lose, or even the
risk which he might incur, in nursing a patient ao inli-act-
able, and whose displeasure was so perilous.

Sir Thomas was the Lord of Gilsland, in Cumberland,
and, in an age when surnames and tillea were not dis-
tinctly attached, as now, to the individuals who bore
them, he was called by the Normans the Lord de Vaux,
and in English, by the Saxons, who clung to their native
language, and were proud of the share of Saxon blood
in this renowned warrior's veins, he was termed Thomas,
or more familiarly, Thom of (be Gills, or Narrow Val-
leys, from which his extensive domains derived their
well-known appellalion.

This chief had been exercised iu almost all the ware,

no WATERLET N0VKL9,

whetlier waged betwiit England and Scotland, or amongat
the various domestic factions Vhich then tore Ihe fornix
coQDtiy asunder, and in all had been distinguished, as
well fi-om hia military conduct as his personal proweas,
He was, in other respects, a rude soldier, blunl, and care-
leas in his bearing, and (aciturn, nay, almost sullen in hia
habits of society, and seemiag, at least, to disclaim all
knowledge of policy and of courtly art. There were
men, however, who pretended to look deeply into charac-
ter, who asserted that the Lord de Vaux was not less .
shrewd and aspiring, than he was blunt and bold, and
who thought that, while he assimilated himself to the
king's own character of blunt hardihood, it was in some
degree at least, with an eye to estabhsli his favour, and to
gratify his own hopes of deep-laid ambition. But no one
cared to thwart his schemes, if such he had, by rivalling
him in the dangerous occupation of daily attendance on
the Bick-bed of a paticDt, whose disease was pronounced
infectious, and more especially when it was remembered
that the patient was Cceur de Lion, suffering under all
the furious impatience of a soldier witliheld from battle,
and a sovereign sequestered from authority; and the
common soldiers, at least in the English aimy, were gen-
erally of opinion that De Vaux attended on the King
like comrade upon comrade, in the honest and disinter-
ested frankness of military friendship, contracted between
the partakers of daily dangers.

It was on the decline of a Syrian day that Richard lay
on his couch of sickness, loathing it as much in mind
as his illness made it irksome to hia body. His bright
blue eye, which at all times shone with uncommon keen-
ness and splendour, had its vivacity augmented by fever
and mental impatience, and glanced from among his

I

curled and tmshoni locks of jellow hair, as fitfully and as
vividly, as the last gleams of the sun shoot ihrougb the
clouds of an approaching thunder-storm, which still,
however, are gilded by its beams. His manly features
showed the progress of wasting illness, and his beard,
neglected aod untrimmed, had overgrown both lips and
chin. Casting himself from aide to side, now clutching
towards him the coverings, which at the next moment he
flung as impatiently from him, his tossed couch and impa-
tient gestures showed at once the energy and the reckless
impatience of a disposition, whose natural sphere was that
of the most active esertion.

Beside his couch stood Thomas de Yaux, in fsce, atti-
tude, and manner, the strongest possible contrast to the
sufFering monarch. Hia stature approached the gigantic,
and his hair in thicknees might have resembled that of
Samson, though only afler the Israelitish champion's locks
had passed under the shears of the Philistines, for those
of De Vaui were cut short, that they might be enclosed
under his helmet. The light of his broad, large hazel
eye, resembled that of the autumn morn, and it was only
perturbed for a moment, when from time to time it was
attracted by Richard's vehement marks of ablation and
restlessness. His features, though massive like his per-
son, might have been handsome before they were defaced
with soars ; his upper lip, afcr the fashion of the Nor-
mans, was covered with thick raustachea, which grew so
long and luxuriantly as to mingle with his hair, and, like
his hair, were dark brown, slightly brindled with gray.
His frame seemed of that kind which most readily defies
both toil and climate, for be was thin flanked, broad-
chested, long armed, deep bi;eathed, and strong limbed.
He bad not laid aside his buff-coat, which displayed the

118 TTAVERI.ET NOVELS.

cros3 cut on the shoulder, for more than three nights, en-
joying but such momentary repose as the warder of a
sick monarch's couch loiglit by snalcbes indulge. This
Baron rarely changed his poslure, except to administer
to Richard the medicine or refreshments, which none of
his less favoured attendants could persuade the impatient
monarch to take ; and there was something affecting in
the kindly, yet awkward manner in which he diachai-ged
offices sn strangely contrasted with his blunt and soldierly
habits and manners.

The pavilion in which these personages were, bad, as
became ttie time, as well as the personal character of
Sichard, more of a warlike than a sumptuous or royal
character. Weapons offensive and defensive, several of
them of strange and newly-invented construction, were
scattered about the tented apartment, or disposed upon
the pillars which supported it. Skins of animals slain
in the chase were stretched on the ground, or extended
along the sides of the pavilion, and, upon a heap of these
silvan spoils, lay three alans, as they were then called,
(wolf-greyhounds, that is,) of the largest size, and as
while as snow. Their faces, marked with many a scar
from clutch and fang, showed their share in collecting the
trophies upon which they reposed, and their eyes, fixed
from time to time with an expressive stretch and yawn
npou the bed of Richard, evinced how much they mar-
velled at and regretted the unwonted inactivity which
they were compelled to share. These were but the ac-
companiments of the soldier and huntsman ; but, on a
small table close by the bed, was placed a shield of
wrought steel, of triangular form, bearing the three
passant, first assumed by the chivalrous monarch, and be-
fore it the golden circlet, resembling much a ducal

J

net, onl^ that it was higher in front than behind, which,
with the purple velvet and embroidered tiara that lined
it, formed then the emblem of England's sovereignty.
Beside it, aa if prompt for defonding the regal symbol,
lay a mighty curtal-axe, which would have wearied the
arm of any other than Coeur de Lion.

In an outer partition of the pavilion waited two or
three officers of the roya! household, depressed, anxious
for their master's health, and not less so for their own
safety, in case of his decease. Their gloomy apprehen-
sions spread themselves to the warders without, who
paced about in downcast and silent contempliition, or,
resting on their halberds, stood motioalesa ou their post,
rather hke armed trophies than living warriors.

" So thou hast no better news to bring me from with-
out, Sir Thomas ? " said the King, aJler a long and per-
turbed silence, spent in the feverish agitation which we
have endeavoured to describe, " All our knights turned
women, and our ladies become devotees, and neither a
sparli of valour norof gallantry to enlighten n camp which
contains the choicest of Eui-ope's chivalry — Ha ! "

" The truce, my lord," said De Vaux, with the same
patience with which he had twenty tiroes repeated the
explanation — " the truce prevents us bearing oui-selves aa
men of action ; and, for the ladies, I am no great revel-
ler, as is well known to your Majesty, and seldom ex-
change steel and buff for velvet and gold — but thus far I
know, that our choicest beauties are waiting upon the
Queen's Majesty and the Princeaa, to a pilgrimage to the
convent of Engaddi, to accomplish their vows for your
Highneas's deliverance from this trouble."

" And is it thus," said Eichard, with the impatience of
indisposition, " that royal matrons and maidens sho'ild risk

114 WATEHLET NOVELa.

Ihemselve^, n'here the dogs who defile the land have ai
lillle truth lo man, as they have faith towards God ? "

" Nay, my lord," said De Vaus, " ihey have Saladin's
won! for their safety."

" True, true ! " replied Richard, " and I did the heathen
Soldan injustice — I owe him reparation for il. — Would
God I were but fit to offer it bim upon my body between
the two hosts — Christendom and Heathenesse both loofc-

Aa Richard spoke, he thrust his right arm out of bed,
naked to the shoulder, and, painfully raising himself in
his couch, shook his clenched hand, as if it grasped sword
or battle-axe, and was then brandished over the jewelled
turban of l!ie Soldan. It was not without a gentle dcCTee
of violence, which the King would scarce have endured
from another, that De Vaux, in his character of sick-
nurse, compelled his royal master to replace himaelf in
the couch, and covered his sinewy arm, neck and shoul-
ders, with the care which a mother bestows upon an
impatient child.

" Thou art a rough nurse, though a willing one, De
Vaux," said the King, laughing with a hitler expression, '
while he submitted to the strength which he was unable
to resist; "methinks a coif would become thy lowering
features as well as a child's biggin would beseem mine.
"We should be a babe and nurse to frighten girls with."

" We have frightened men in our time, my liege," said
De Vaux ; " and, I trust, may live to frighten them again. |
"What is ft fever-ftt, that we should not endure it patiently,
in order lo get rid of it easily ? "

Tever-fit!" exclaimed Richard, impetuously; " ihon
mayest think, and justly, that it is a fever-lit with me;
bat what is it with all the other Christian prmces — with

THE TALiaMiy. llo

Philip of Francfc— with lliat dull Auslrian—wilh liim of
Montaerrat — wiih the Iloapilallei's — with the Templara —
whnt is it with all tbeia ? — I will (ell llice — it is a cold
palsy— a dead lethargy — a disease that deprives them of
speech and action — a canker that has eaten into the heart
of all that is noble, and chivalrous, aod virtuous among
them— ^that has made them false to the noblest vow ever
k nights were 8wom to — has made them indifferept to
tlieir fame, and forgetful of their God I "

" For the love of Heaven, my liege," said De Vaux,
" take it less violently — you will be heard without doors,
where such speeches are but too current already among
the common soldiery, and engender discord and conten-
tion in the Christian host. Bethink you that your illness
mars the mainspring of their enterprise : a mangonel will
work without screw and lever better than the Christian
host without King Richard."

"Thou flatterest me, Do Vaus," said Richard; and,
not insensible to the power of praise, he reclined hia head
on the pillow, with a more deliberate attempt to repose
than he had yet exhibited. But Thomas de Vaux waa
no courtier ; ihe phrase which had offered had risen spon-
taneously to hia lips ; and he knew not how to pursue the
pleasing theme, so as to soothe and prolong the vein which
he had excited. He was silent, therefore, until, relapsing
into his moody contemplations, the King demanded of him
sharply, " Despardieux ! This is smoothly said to sootlie
a sick man ; hut does a league of monarahs, an assem-
blage of nobles, a convocation of all the chivalry of Eu-
rope, droop with the sickness of one man, though he
chances to be King of England ? Why should Richard's
illness, or Richard's death, check the march of thirty
thousand men, as brave as himself? When the master

(

stinick down, the herd do not disperse upon hia
fall — when the falcon strikes the leading crane, another
takes the guidance of the phalanx, — Why do not the
powers assemble anil choose some one, to whom thej
may intrust the guidance of the host ?"

" Forsooth, and if it please your M^eaty," said De
VauK, " I hear consultations have been held among tlw.
royal leaders for some such purpose."

" Ha ! " exclaimed Richard, his jealousy awakened,
giving hia raentul irritation another direction — "Ami
forgot by my allies ere I have taken the last sacrament?
— do they hold me dead already ? — But no, no — fhey
are right — And whom do they select as leader of the
Christian host ? "

" Hank and dignity," said De Vaui, " point to tha
Kmg of France."

" Oh, ay," answered the English monarch, " Philip
of France and Navarre — Dennis Mountjoie — hia Most
Christian Majesty ! mouth-filling words these ! There ia
but one risk — that he might mistake the words ^n arriere
for JSn avant, and lead us back to Paris, instead of march-
ing to Jerusalem. His politic head has learned by tlua
time, that there is more to be gotten by oppressing hia
feudatories, and pillaging his allies, than fighting with tha
Turks for the Holy Sepulchre."

" They might choose the Archduke of Austria," Baid
De Vaux.

" What ! because he is big and burly like thyself
Thomas — nearly as thick-headed, but without thy indil
ference to danger, and carelesaless of offence? I tell the
that Austria has in all that mass of ilesh no bolder animE
tion, than is afforded by the peevishness of a wasp, and
the courage of a wren. Out upon him ! — he a leader of

I

chivalry lo deeds of glory ! — Give him a. flagon of RJicn-
ish to driDk with his besmii-ched baaren-hauters ani]
tance-kncchts."

" There is the Grand Master of the Templars," con-
tinued the baron, not sorry to keep his master's attention
engaged on other topics than his own illness, though at
the expense of the characters of prince and potentate —
" There is the Grand Master of the Temptars," he con-
tinued, " undaunted, Ekilful, brave in battle, and gage iu
council, having no separate kingdoms of his own to divert
bis exertions from the recovery of the Holy Land — what
thinks your Majesty of the Master as a general leader
of the Christian host ?"

" Ha, Bcau-Seant ? " answM-ed the King. " Oh, no
exception can be taken to Brother Giles Amaury — he
understands the oi'dering of a battle, and the tighting in
front when it begins. But, Sir Thomas, were it fiiir to
take the Holy Land from the heathea Saladin, so full
of all the virtues which may distinguish unchristened
man, and give it to Giles Amaury, a worse Pagan than
himself — an idolater — a devil- worshipper — a necromancer
— who practises crimes the most dark and unnatural, in the
vaults and secret places of abomination and darkness?"

" The Grand Master of the Hospitallers of St. John
of Jerusalem is not tainted by fame, either with heresy
or magic," said Thomas de VauK.

" But is he not a sordid miser?" said Richard, hastily j
" has he not been suspected — ay, more than suspected —
of selling to the infidels those advantages which ihey
would never have won by fair force ? Tuah, man, better
give the army lo be made merchandise of by Venetian
skippers and Lombardy pedlars, than trust it to tlia
Grand Master of St. John."

118 -WATBBLKT HOVELS.

" Well, then, I will venture but another gue?s," said
the Baron de Vaux — " What say you to the gallant Mar
quU of MontserraC, SO wise, so elegant, such a good man-
at-arms ? "

" Wise ? cunning, you would say," replied Richard j
" elegant in a lady's chamber, if you will. Ob, ay,
Conrade of Moatserrat, — who kuows not the popinjay?
Foiitic and lersatile, he will change jou his purposes as
often as the trimmings of his doublet, and you shall never
be able to guess the hue of hia inmost vestmenis from
their outward colours. A man-at-arms ? ay, a fine figure
on horseback, and can bear him well in the tilt-yard, and
at the barriers, when swords are blunted at point and
edge, and spears are tipped with trenchers of wood, in-
Btead of steel-pikes. Wert tliou not with me, when I said
to that same gay Marquis, ' Hera we be, three good Chris-
tians, and on yonder plain there pricks a band of some
threescore Saracens, what say you to charge them briskly?
There are but twenty unbelieving misci-eants lo each true
kniglit.' "

" I recollect the Marquis replied," said De Vaux, " that
his limbs were of fiesh, not of iron, and that he would
rather bear the heart of a man than of a beast, though
that beast were the lion. But I see how it is — we shall
end where we began, without hope of praying at the
Sepulchre, until Heaven shall restore King Bicbai-d to
health."

At this grave remark, Richard burst out into a hearty
fit of laughter, the first which he had for some time in-
dulged in. " Why, what a thing is cooscience," lie said,
"that through .-ts means even such a thick-witted north-
em lord as thou canst bring thy sovereign to confess his
folly 1 It is true, that, did they not propose themselves

I

THB TALISIfAK.

119

as fit to Iiold my leading-staff, little should 1 eai-e for
plucking the silken trappings off the puppets thou iia^t
shown me in succeaaion — What conciema it me what fine
tinsel robes they swagger in, unless when they are named
as rivals in the glorious enterprise to which I have vowed
myseif ? Yes, De Vaux, I confess my weakness, and the
wilfulaess of my ambition. The Christian camp contains,
doubtless, many a better knight than Richard of England,
and it would be wise and worthy (o assign to [he bust of
them the leading of the host — butj" continued the warhke
monarch, raising himself in his bed, and shaking the cover
from his head, while his eyes sparkled as they were wont
to do on the eve of battle, " were such a knight to plant
the banner of the Cross on the Temple of Jerusalem,
while I was unable to bear ray share in the noble task, he
should, BO soon as I was fit to lay lance in rest, undergo
my challenge to mortal combat, for having diminished my
fame, and pressed in before to the object of my enterprise.
— Eitt hark, what trumpets arc those at a distance ? "

" Those of King Philip, as I guess, my liege," said the
atout Englishman.

" Thou art dull of ear, Thomas," said the King, en-
deavouring to start up — " hearest thou not that clash and
clung? By Heaven, the Turks are in the camp — I bear
their lelies," •

He again endeavoured to get out of bed, and De Vaux
was obliged to exercise his own great strength, aud also
to summon the assistance of the chamberlains from the
inner tcut, to restrain him.

"Thou art a false traitor, De Vaux," said the incensed

monarch, when, breathless and exhausted with struggling,

he was compelled to submit to superior strength, and to

* The woF-criss of tha Uwlemth.

120 WAVERLF.r NOVELS.

repose in quiel on his couch. " I would I were — I would
I were but strong enough to dash thy braiqs out with my
batlle-ase ! "

" I would you had the strength, my liege," said De
Vaux, "and would even take the risk of its being so em-
ployed. The odds would be great in favour of Christen-
dom, were Thomas Multon dead, and Cceur de Lion
himself again."

" Mine honest faithful servant," said Kichard, extend-
ing his hand, which the baron reverentially saluted, "for-
give thy master's impatience of mood. It is this burning
fever which chides thee, and not thy kind master, Kichard
of England, But go, I prithee, and bring me word what
. strangers are in the camp, for these sounds are not of
Christendom."

De Vaux left the pavilion on the errand assigned, and,
in his absence, which he had resolved should be brief, he
charged the chamberlains, pages, and attendants, to re-
double their attention on their sovereign, with threats of
liolding them to responsibility, which rather added to than
diminished their timid anxiety in the discharge of their
duty; for next perhaps to the ir^of the monarch him-
self, they dreaded that of the stern and inexorable Lord
of Gibland.-

* Be woi a histjirlcal hero, fajthfolly attacbed, as is bere expressed,
to King Richard, luid is noticed with distinstion [n the nnnance msD-
tloned In the Introduotion. At the bfiginnitigof the romsnee, man-
tion is made of a toamnineiit, in which the kmg retama three timei
-with a fresh suit of anaoiir, which acted as a disguise; and at each
appearance, aDme knight of great praweas had a sharp encounter irith
him. When Kichard returned the second time, the following la Mr.
Ellis's acEQunt of his proceedings:—" He now monnted a bay horee,
assumed a suit of annonr painted red, and a helmet, the crest of
Which was a red hound, with a long tail which reachtid to the earth;
nn emblem intended to coavej his indignation against the heathen

I

THE TALISMAN. 121

hounds who defiled the Holy Land, and his determination to attempt
their destruction. Having sufficiently signalized himself in his new
disguise, he rode into the ranks for the purpose of selecting a more
formidable adversary; and, delivering his spear to his squire, took
his mace, and assaulted Sir Thomas de Multon, a knight whose
prowess was deservedly held in the highest estimation. Sir Thomas,
apparently not at all disordered by a blow which would have felled a
common adversary, calmly advised him to go and amuse himself
elsewhere; but Richard, having aimed at him a second and more
violent stroke, by which his helmet was nearly crushed, he returned
it with such vigour that the king lost his stirrups, and recovering
himself with some difficulty, rode off with all speed into the forest.*'
«-£ll.ib*s Specimenst pp. 193, 134.

WATEKLET MOTBLB.

CHAPTER Vn.

But it -M raariel U

Battu or OmraonsR.

A CONSIDERAELK band of Scottish warriors had joined
the Crusaders, and had naturally pLiced Ihemselves under
the command of the English monarch, being, like his
native troops, most of (hem of Saxon and Norman
deaceni, speaking the same languages, possessed, some of
them, of English as vrell as Scottish demeanea, and
alUed, in some eases, by blood and intermarriage. The
period also preceded that when the grasping ambition of
Edward I. gave a deadly and envenomed character to the
wars betwixt the two nations ; the English fighting for
the subjugation of Scotland, and the Scottish, with all
the stern determination and obstinacy which has ever
characterized their nation, for the defence of their inde-
pendence, by the moat violent means, under the most dis-
advantageous circumstances, ■ and at the moat extreme
hazard. As yet, wars betwixt the two nations, though
fierce and frequent, had been conducted on principles of
fair hostility, an^ admitted of those soflening shades by
which courtesy, and the respect for open and generous
foemen, quaUfy and mitigate the horrors of war. In time

of peace, therefore, and especially when both, aa at
present, were engaged in war, waged in hehalf of a
ind rendered dear to them bj iheir ideas
of religion, the adventurers of both countries frequentljf
fought aide by side, their national emulation serving only
to Gtimulale them to excel each other in their e&brta

Q enemy.

The frank and martial character of Richard, who
made no disfiDCtion betwixt his own subjects and thoaa
of William of Scotland, excepting aa they bore ihem-
Belves In the field of battle, tended much lo conciliate the
troops of hoth nations. But upon hia Illness, and the dis-
advantageous circumstances in which the Crusaders were
placed, the national disunion between the rarions hands
nnited in the Crusade, began to display itself, ju»t as old
wounds break out afresh in the human body, when under
the influence of disease or debility.

The Scottish and English, equally jealous and high-
epiriled, and apt to take offence, — the former the more so,
because the poorer and the weaker nation, — began to fill
up, by iDlcmal dissension, the period when the truce for-
bade them lo wreak their united vengeance on the Sara-
cens. Like the contending Roman chiefs of old, the
Seottisli would admit no superiority, and their southern
neighbours would brook no equahty. There were charges
and I'ecri mi nations, and both the common soldiery, and
their leaders and commanders, who had been good com-
rades in time of victory, lowered on each other in tha
period of adversity, as if their union had not been then
more essential than ever, not only lo the success of their
common cause, hut to their joint safety. The same dis-
union had begun lo show itself betwist the French and
English, ibe Italians and the Germans, and even between

l'2i A7AVERLEY NOVELS.

the Danes and Swedes ; but it is only that which divided
the two nations whom one island bred, and who seemed
more animated against each other for the very reason,
that our narrative is principally concerned with.

Of all the English nobles who had followed their ISlng
to Palestine, De Vaux was most prejudiced against the
Scottish ; they were his near neighbours, with whom he
had been engaged during his whole life in private or
public warfare, and on whom he had inflicted many calam-
ities, while he had sustained at their hands not a few.
His love and devotion to the King was like the vivid
affection of the old English mastiff to his master, leaving
him churlish and inaccessible to all others, even towards
those to whom he was indifferent, and rough and danger-
ous to any against whom he entertained a prejudice. De
Vaux had never observed, without jealousy and dis-
pleasure, his King exhibit any mark of courtesy or
favour to the wicked, deceitful, and ferocious race, bom
on the other side of a river, or an imaginaiy line drawn
through waste and wilderness, and he even doubted the
success of a Crusade in which they were suffered to bear
arms, holding them in his secret soul little better than the
Saracens whom he came to combat. It may be added,
that, as being himself a blunt and downright Englishman,
unaccustomed to conceal the slightest movement either of
love or of dislike, he accounted the fair-spoken courtesy,
which the Scots had learned, either from imitation of their
frequent allies, the French, or which might have arisen
from their own proud and reserved character, as a fkhe
and astucious mark of the most dangerous designs against
their neighbours, over whom he believed, with genuine
English confidence, they could, by fair manhood, never
obtain any advantage.

THE TALISMAN.

Yet, though De Vaux entertained these seniimenta
concerning his northern neighbours, and extended them,
with little mitigation, even to such aa bad assumed the
Cross, his respect for the King, and a sense of the duty
imposed by his vow as a Crusader, prevented him Irora
displaying them otherwise than by regularly shunning all
intercourse with his Scottish brethren-at-arms, as far as
possible, — by observing a sullen taciturnity, when com-
pelled to meet them occasionally, — and by looking scorn-
fully upon them when they encountered on the march
anil in camp. The Scottish barans and knights were
not men to bear his scorn unobserved or unreplied to ;
and it came to that pass, that he was i-egarded as the
determined and active enemy of a nation, whom, afier all,
he only disliked, and in some sort despised. Nay, it was
remarked by close observers, that, if he had not towards
them the charity of Scripture, which sufferelh long, and
judges kindly, he was by no means deficient in llie sub-
ordinate and limited virtue, which alleviates and relieves
the wants of others. The wealth of Thomas of Gilsland
procured supplies of provisions and medicines, and some
of these usually flowed by secret channels into the qnar-
lera of the Scottish ; his surly benevolence proceeding on
the principle, that, next to a man's friend, his foe was of
most importance to hira, passing over all the intermediate
relations, aa too indifferent to merit even a thought. This
explanation is necessary, in order that the reader may
fuUy understand what we are now to detail.

Thomas de Vaux had not made many steps beyond
the entrance of the royal pavilion, when he was awaro
of what ihe far more acute ear of the English monarch,
no mean proficient in the art of minstrelsy, had instantly
discovered, that the musical strains, namely, which had

126 TTAVEHLET NOVELS,

readied their ears, were produced by llie pipes, alialma,
and kettle-drums of the Saraceas ; and, at tlie bottom (^
an avenue of tents, which formed a broad access to the
paTilion of Bichard, he could see a crowd of idle soldiers
assembled around the spot from which the music was
heard, almost in Ibe centre of the camp ; and he saw
with great surprise, mingled amid the helmets of varioua
forms worn by the Crusaders of different nations, while
turbans and long pikes, announcing Ibe presence of armed
Saracens, and the huge deformed heads of several camela
or dromedaries, overlooking the multitude by aid of their
long disproportioned necks.

Wondering and displeased at a sight bo unexpected
mid singular, — lor it wa^ costoroary to leave aU flags of
truce and other communications from the enemy at an
appointed place without the barriers, — the baron looked
esgeriy round fur some one of whom he might inquire
the cause of thia alarming novelty.

The first person whom he met advancing to him, he
set down at once, by his grave and haughty step, as a
Spaniard or a Scot ; and presently after muttered to bim-
eelf — "And a Scot it is — be of the Leopard. — I have
seen him fight indifferently well, for one of his coun-
try."

Loath to ask even a passing question, he was about to
pass Sir Kenneth, with that sullen and lowering port
which seems to say, " I know Ihee, but I will hold no
communication with thee;" but his purpose weis defeated
by the Northern Knight, who moved forward directly to
him, a[id accosting him with foi-mal courtesy, said, " My
Lord de Vaux of Gilsland, I have in charge to speak
with you."

" Ha ! " returned (he English baron, " with me ? But,

■ay joui- pleasure, so it bo shortly epoken—
King's errand."

" Mine toucliea King Richard yet more nearly," an-
swered Sir Kenneth; "I bring him, I tni^t, health."

The Lord of Gilaland measured the Scot witli incred-
qIous eyes, and replied, " Thou art no leech, I think, Sir
Scot — I had as soon thought of your bringing ihe King
of England wealth."

Sir Kenneth, though displeased with the manner of
the baron's reply, answered calmly, " Health to Richard
is glory and wealth to Christendom .^But my time
presses ; I pray you, may I see the King ? "

" Surely not, fair sir," said the baron, " until your
errand he told more distinctly. The sick chambers of
princes open not to all who inquiry like a northern
hostelry."

" My lord," said Kenneth, "the cross which I wear in
common ivilh yourself, and the importance of what I
have to tell, mnsl, for the present, cause me to pass over
a bearing, which else I were unapt to endure. In plain
language, then, I bring with me a Moorish physician,
who undertakes to work a cure on King Richard."

"A Moorish physician ! " said De Vans j " and who
will warrant that he brings not poisons instead of reme-

" His own life, my lord — his head, which he offers as
a guarantee."

"I have known many a resolute ruiEan," said De
Vaux, " who valued his own life as little aa it deserved,
and would troop to the gallows as merrily as if the hang-
man were his partner in a dance,"

" But thus it is, my lord," repHed Ihe Scot ( " Saladin,
to whiim none will deny the credit of n generous and

128 TTAVERLET HOVELS.

valiaDt enemy, hath gent this leech hither >s
Durable i-etinue and guard, hefitling the high e
in which El Hakim* is held by the Soldan, and with
frails and refreshmeala for the King's private chamber,
and Buch message as may pass betwixt honourable ene-
mies, praying him to be recovered of his fever, that he
may be the filter to receive a visit from the Soldan, with
his naked scimitar in bis hand, and an hundred thousand
cavaliers at his hack. Will it please you, who are of the
King's secret council, to cause these camels to be dis-
charged of their burdens, aad some order taken as to the
reception of the learned physician?"

"WonderfuU" said De Vans, as apeaking to himself.
— "And who will vouch for the honour of Saladin, in a
case when bad faith would rid him at once of his most
powerful adversary ?"

" I myself," replied Sir Kenneth, " will be hia guaran-
tee, with honour, life, and fortune."

"Strange!" again ejaculated De Vaux; "the North
vouches for the South — the Scot for the Turk I — May I
crave of you, Sir Knight, how you became concerned in
this affhir?"

" I have been absent on a pilgnmage, in the course of
which," repUed Sir Kenneth, " I had a message to dis-
charge towards the holy hermit of Engaddi."

"May I not be intrusted with it, Sir Kenneth, and
with the answer of the holy man ? "

" It may not be, my lord," answered the Scot.

" I am of the secret council of England," said the Eng-
lishman, haughtily.

" To which land I owe no allegiance," said Kenneth.

" Though I have voluntarily followed in this war the per-

• The phyeician.

SDQal fortunes of England's sovereign, I was di^palched
by the General Council of tlie kings, princes, and supreme
leiidera of the army of the Blessed Crosa, and to them
only 1 render my errand."

"Ha! sny'stlhou?" said the proud Baron de Vaux.
" But know, messenger of the kings and princes as thoo
may'st be, no leech shall approach the sick-bed of EichanJ
uf England, without the consent of him of Gilsland ; and
they will come on evil errand who dure to intrude them-
selves against it."

He was tiimiog loftily away, when the Scot, pla<ang
himself closer, and more opposite to him, asked, in a
calm voice, yet not without espressing his share of pride,
whether the Lord of Gilsland esteemed iiim a gentleman
and a good knight.

"All Scots are ennobled by tlieir birthright," answered
Thomas de Vaux, something ironically; hut sensible of
his own injustice, and perceiving that Kenneth's colour
rose, he added, " For a good knight it were sin to doubt
you, in one at least who has seen you well and bravely
discharge your devoir."

" Well, then," said the Scottish knight, satisfied with
the frankness of the last admission, " and let me swear 1o
you, Thomas of Gilsland, that as I am true Scoltish
man, wliich I hold a privilege equal to my ancient
gentry, and as sure as I am a belted knight, and come
hither to acquire log ' and fume in this mortal life, and
forgiveness of my sins in that which is to come — so truly,
and by the blessed Cross which I wear, do I protest unto
you, that I desire but the safety of Richard Cmur de
Lion, in recommending the ministry of this Moslem
physician."

* Lot, — buu, praise, or renown.

130 WAVERLBT HOTELS.

The Englishman was strnck with the solcninily of thft
obtestation, and answered with' more cordiality tlian he
had yet exhibited, " Tell me, Sir Koight of the Leopard,
granting (which I do not doubt) t!mt thou art thyself
satisfied in this matter, shall I do well, in a land where
the art of poisoning is as general as that of cooking, to
bring this unknown physiciun to practice with his drugs
on a. health so valuable to Chriatendora? "

" My lord," replied the Scot, " thus only can I reply (
that my squire, the only one of my retinue whom w
and disbase had lefl in attendance on me, has been of late
suffaring dangerously under this same fever, which, i
vahant King Richard, has disabled the principal limb o
our holy enterprise. This leech, this Ei Hakim, hath
ministered remedies to him not two hours since, and
already he hath fallen into a refi-eshing sleep. That he
can cure the disorder, which has proved so fatal, I nothinj
doubt ; that he hath the purpose to do it, is, I think,
warranted by his mission from the royal Soldan, who is
truehearted and loyal, so far as a blinded inlidel may be
called 80 ; and, for his eventual success, the cei-tainty of
reward in case of succeeding, and punishment in cast
voluntary failure, may be a sufficient guarantee."

The Englishman listened with downcast looks, as
who doubted, yet was not unwilling to receive conviction.
At length he looked up and said, " May I see jour sick
squire, fair sir ?"

The Scottish knight hesitated and coloured, yet i
swered at last, " WUIingly, my Lord of Gibland; but you
must remember, when you see my poor quarter, that the
nobles and knights of Scotland feed not iio high, s
not so soft, and care not for the magnificence of lodg-
meat, which is proper to their southern neighbours.

am poorhf lodged, my Lord of Gilsiand ," he added <
a haughty emphasis oil the word, while, wi
unwiUingoess, he led the way to his temporary plac
abode.

Whatever were the prejudices of De Vaux against the
nation of his new acquaintance, and though we undertake
not to deny that some of these were excited by its pro-
verbial poverty, he had too much nobleness of disposition
to enjoy the mortification of a brave individual, thua com-
pelled to moke koowQ wants which his pride would gladly
have concealed.

" Shame to lltQ soldier of the Cross," he said, " who
thinks of worldly splendour, or of luxurious accommoda-
tioo, when pressing forward to (he conquest of the Holy
Gty. Fare as hard as we may, we shall yet be betler
than the host of martyrs and of saints, who, having trod
these scenes before us, now hold golden lamps, and ever-
green palms,"

This was the most metaphorical speech which Thomas
of Gilsland was ever known to utter, the rather, perhaps,
(as will sometimes happen,) that it did not entirely ex-
press his own sentimeota, being somewhat a lover of good
cheer and splendid accommodation. By this time they
reached the place of the camp, where the Knight of the
Leopard had assumed his abode.

Appearances here did indeed promise no breach of the
laws of mortification, to which the Crusaders, according
to the opiaioQ expressed by him of Gilsland, ought toi
subject themselves, A space of ground large enough to
accommodate perhaps thirty tents according to the Crusa-
ders' rules of ca^tramelalion, was partly vacant— because,
in ostentation, the knight had demanded ground to the
extent of faia original retinae — partly occupied by a few

182 WATER r

tnisertible hula, hastily constructed of bougts, and covered
with palm-leaves. Theae habitations seemed entirely
deserted, and several of them were ruinous. The central
hut, which represented the paviUon of the leader, was dis-
tinguished by his swallow-tailed pennon, placed on the
point of a spear ; from which its loug folds dropt motion-
less to the ground, as if sickening under the scorching
rays of the Asiatic sun. But no pages oi' squires, not
even a solitary warder, was placed by the emblem of
feudal power and knightly degrees. If ita reputation
defended it not from insult, it had no other guard.

Sir Kenneth east a melancholy look around him, but,
suppressing his feelings, entered the hut, making a sign to
tbe Baron of Gilsland to follow. He also cast around a
glance of examination, which imphed pity not altogether
unmingled with contempt, to which, perhaps, it is as nearly
akin as it is said to be to love. He then stooped his lofly
crest, and entered a lowly hut, which his bulky form
seemed almost entii'ely to fill.

The interior of the hut was chiefly occupied by two
beds. One was empty, but composed of collected leaves,
and spread with an antelope's hide. It seemed, from the
articles of armour laid beside i(, and from a crucifix of
silver, carefully and reverentially disposed at the head, to
he the couch of the knight himself. The other contained
the invalid, of whom Sir Kenneth had spoken, a strong-
built and harsh-featured man, past, as his looks betokened,
the middle age of life. His couch was trimmed more
solYly than his master's, and it was plain, that the more
courtly garments of the latter, the loose robe, in which (he
knights showed tliemselves on pacific occasions, and the
other little spare articles of dress and adornment, had
ed by Sir Kennetli to the accommodation of his

gick domestic. In an outward part of the hut, which yet
waa within the range of the English baron's eye, a boy,
rudely altired with buskins of deer's hide, a blue caj) or
bonnet, and a doublet, whose original finery was much
tarnished, sat on hia knees by a ehafing-diah filled with
charcoal, cooking upon a plate of iron the cakes of barley-
bread, which were then, and still are, a favourite food with
the Scottish people. Part of an antelope was suspended
against one of the main props of the hut, nor waa it diffi-
cult to know how it had been procured ; for a large stag
greyhound, noblei' in size and appearance than those even
which guarded King Richard's sick-lsed, lay eyeing the
process of baking the cake. The sagacious animal, on
their first entrance, uttered a stiSed growl, which sounded
from bis deep chest like distant thunder. But he saw his
master, and acknowledged his presence by wagging bis
tail and couchiiLg his bead, abstaining from more tumul-
taous or noisy greeting, as if bis noble instinct had taught
him the propriety of silence in a sick man's chamber.

Beside the couch, sat on a cushion, also composed of
skins, the Moorish physician of whom Sir Kenneth had
spoken, cross-legged, after the Eastern foshion. The im-
perfect light showed little of him, save that the lower
part of bis face was covered with a long black beard,
which descended over his breast — that he wore a high
tolpack, a Tartar cap of the lamb's wool manufactured at
Aslracan, bearing the same dusky colour, and that hia
ample caftan, or Turkish robe, was also of a dark hue.
Two piercing eyes, whicli gleamed with unusual lustre,
were the only lineaments of his visage that could be dis-
cerned amid the darkness in which be was enveloped.
The English lord stood BUent with a sort of reverential
Bwe; for, notwithstanding the roughness of his genertd

134 WATEHtET tfOVELS.

bearing, a scene of diBtreaa and poverty, firmly endured
without complaint or murmur, would at any time have
claimed more reverence from Thomas de Vaui, than
would all the splendid formalities of a royal presence-
chamber, unless that presence-chamber were King
Ri<;bard's own. Nothing wa■^, for a time, beard, but
the heavy and regular breathings of the invabd, wb»
seemed in profound repose.

" He hath not slept for six nights before," said Sir
Kennefh, " aa I am assured by the youth bis attendant.''

" Noble Scot," said Thomas de Vaus, grasping the
Scottish knight's hand, with a pressure which had mora
of cordiality than he permitted his words to utter, " this
gear must be amended — Your esquire is but too evil fed
and looked to."

In the latter part of this speech, he naturally raised
his voice to its usual decided tone. The sick man was
dislarbed in his alumbere.

" My master," be said, murmuring as in a dream, "noble
Sir Kenneth — taste not, lo you as to me, the waters of the
Clyde cold and refreshing, after the brackish springs of
Palestine ? "

" He dreams of bis native land, and is happy in his
slumbers," whispered Sir Kenneth lo De Vaus ; but bad
scarce uttered the words, when the physician, arising
from the place which he had taken near the couch of the
sick, and laying the hand of the patient, whose pulse he
had been carefully watching, quietly upon the couch, came
to the two knights, and taking them each by the arm,
while he intimated to them to remain silent, led them to
the front of the hut.

" In the name of Issa Ben Mariam," he said, " whom
iro honour as you, though not with the same blinded au

THE TALnKUI.

perstition, dbturb not lie effect of the blessed raeilit
of whk'b be hatb 'partaken. To awaken bin

dealb or depi

of reason ; but return at tbe hour

wben tbe Muezzin calls from tbe minaret to even g
prayer in Ibe mosque, and, if led undisturl ed u 1 1 li en
I promise you, this same Franki*h aold er Bhnll bp ablt
without prejudice to his health, to hold some br ef co
verse witb you, on any matters on wbit.1 c 1 r and
especially his master, may have to question b ra

The knights rutroated before tbe authoritative com*
mands of the leech, who seemed fully to comprehend the
importance of the Eastern proverb, that the sick cliamber
of tbe patient is the kingdom of the pliysician.

They paused, and remained standing together at tlie
door of the hut, Sir Kenneth, with the air of one who
expected his visitor to say farewell — and De Vaux, as if
he had something on his mind which prevented him tiosa
doing so. The hound, however, had pressed out of tbe
tent afler tliem, and now thrust his long rough counte-
nance into the iiand of his master, as if modestly solicit-
ing some mark of his kindness. He had no sooner re-
ceived tbe notice which he desired, in the shape of a kind
word and slight caress, tban, eager (o acknowledge his
gratitude and joy for his master's return, he flew off at
full speed, galloping in full c:ireer, and witb outstretched
tail, here and there, about and around, crossways and end-
long, through the decayed huts, and tbe esplanade we
have described, but never transgressing those precincts
which his sagacity knew were protected by his master's
pennon. After a few gambols of this kind, the dog,
coming close up to his master, laid at once aside his frol-
icsome mood, relapsed into his usual gravity and slowness
of gesture and deportment, and looked as if he vers

I

a to depart

136 WATEHLET NOTBLS.

ashamed that nny thing should bavo moT
BO far out of his sober aelf-control.

Both knights loolted on with pkaaure ; for Sir Een-
netii was justly proud of his noble bound, and tbe north-
ern English baron was of course an admirer of the chase,
and a judge of the animal's merits.

"Aright able dog," he eaid; "I think, fair air, King
Hicbard bath not au alan which may match bjm, if he be
as stanch as he ia swift. But let me pray you — speaking
in all honour and kinduess — have you not heard tbe prou-
lamatioii, that no one, under the rank of earl, Ehall keep
hunting doga within King Kichard's camp, without the
royal hcenae, which, I think, Sir Kenneth, hath not been
issued to you ? — I speak as Master of the Horse."

"And I answer as a free Scottish knight," said Ken-
neth, sterajy. " For the present I follow the baoDer of
England, but I cannot remember that I have ever sub-
jected myself to the forest-laws of that kingdom, nor
have I such respect for them as would incline me to do
so. When ibe trumpet sounds to arms, my foot is in the
stirrup as soon as any — wlien it clangs for tbe charge, my
lance has not yet been the last laid in the rest. Hut for
my hours of liberty or of idleness, King Eichai-d has no
title lo bar my recreation."

" Nevertheless," said De Yaux, " it is a folly to disobey
the King's ordinance — so, with your good leave, I, as
having authority in that matter, will send you a protec-
tion for my friend here."

"I thank you," said the Scot, coldly ; " but he knows
my allotted quarters, and within these I can protect him
myself.— And yet," he said, suddenly changing his man-
ner, " this is but a cold return for a well-meant kindness.
I thank you, my lord, most heartily. The king's equer-

A

THE TALISUAH.

137

tied, or prickers, might find Roswal at dieadvanlagu, and
do him some injury, which I sliould not, purhapa, be t\ow
in returning, aad bo ill might come of it. You liave seen
so much of my housekeeping, my lord," he added, with a
smile, " that I need not ehame lo aty that Rwwal is our
principal purveyor ; aad well I hope our Lioti Bichard
will not be like the lion in the minstrel fable, that went
a-hunting, and kept the whole booty to )>im=elt'. I cannot
think he would grudge a poor gentleman, who follows
him faithfully, his hour of sport, and bia morsel of game,
more especially when other food ia hard enough U> come

bj."

" By my faith, you do the King no more than jus^ce
— and yet," said the baron, " there is something in these
words, vert and venison, that turns the very brains of our
Norman princes."

" We have heard of late," said the Scot, " by minstrels
and pilgrims, that your outlawed yeomen have formed
great bands in the shires of York and Nottingham, Laving
at their head a moat stout archer, called Robin Hood,
with his lieutenant. Little John, Methinks it were better
that Richard relaxed his forest code in England, than
endeavoured to enforce it in the Holy Limd."

" Wild work, Sir Kenneth," replied De Vans, shrug-
ging his shoulders, as one who would avoid a perilous or
oopleasing topic — " a mad world, sir. — I must now bid you
adieu, having presently to return to the King's pavilion.
At vespers, I will again, with your leave, visit your quar-
ters, and speak with this same infidel physician. I would,
in the meantime, were it no offence, willingly send you
what would somewhat mend your cheer."

" 1 thank you, sir," said Sir Kenneth, " but it needs
not; Roswal hath .already slocked my larder for two

138 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

weeks, since the sun of Palestine, if it brings diseases,
serves also to dry venison."

The two warriors parted much better friends than they
had met ; but ere they separated, Thomas de Vaux in-
formed himself at more length of the circumstances attend-
ing the mission of the Eastern physician, and received
from the Scottish knight the credentials which he had
brought to King Richard on the part of Saladin.

"This is a strange tale, Sir Tliomaa," said the sick
inonareh, when he had heard the report of the trusty
Baron of Gilsland ; "art thou sure tiae Scolti^ man is a
tall man and true ? "

" I cannot say, my lord," replied the jealous Borderer;
" I live a little too near the Scots to gather much truth
among them, having found them ever fair and false. But
this man'a bearing is that of a true man, were he a devil
B3 well as a Scot — that I must needs aay for him in con-

" And for his cai'riage as a knight, how say'st thou, De
Vaux?" demanded the King,

" It is your Majesty's business more than mine to note
men's bearings ; and I warrant you have noted the man-
ner in which this man of the Leopard hath borne him-
self. He hath been well spoken of."

"And justly, Thomas," said the King. "We have
ourselves witnessed him. It is indeed our purpose, in
placing ourselves ever in the front of battle, to see how
our liegemen and followers acquit them^^elves, and not
from a desire lo accumulate vainglory to ourselves, as
tome have supposed. We know the vaJaity of the praise

140

WA.VBRLKT KOTELB.

dC man, which is but a Tapour, and buckle on our armi
foi- oilier purposea than to win it."

Dc Yaux was alarmed when he heard the King make I
a declaration so iuconsisteat with his nature, and beiiuved I
at first that nothing short of the approach of death could '
liaye brought him to speak in depreciating terms of mili-
tary renown, which was the very breath of his nostrils.
But recollecting he had met the royal confessor in
outer pavilion, he was shrewd enongh to jilace this It
porary self-abasement to the effect of the reverend I
man's lesson, and suffered the King to proceed withont I

" Yes," continued Kichard, "I have indeed marked the |
manner in which this knight does his devoir. My lead- i
ing-stafF were not worth a fool's bauble, had he escaped ■
my notice — and he had ere now tasted of our bounty, but
that I have aho marked his overweening and audaciooa |
presumplioD,"

"My liege," said the Baron of Gilsland, observing the 1
King's countenance change, " I fear I have transgressed |
your pleasure ia lending some countenance to his trans- >
gression,"

" How, De Multon, thou ? " said the King, contracting
his brows, and speaking in a tone of angry surprise,-^
"Thou countenance his insolence? — It cannot be."

" Nay, your Majesty will pardon me to remind you,
that I have by mine office right to grant liberty to men
of gentle blood, to keep them a hound or two within the
camp, just to cherish the noble art of venerie ; and beside%
it were a sin lo have maimed or harmed a thing so noble
»3 this gentleman's dog,"

" Has he then a dog so handsome ? " said the King.

"A most perfect creature of Heaven," Siiid the baron,

THE TilASlSAJS.

who wa.^ (m enlhusiast of fic!d-?ports — "of (he noblest
Norllitni breed — deep in the chest, strong in the slern,
black colour, and brindled on ilie breast and legs, not
spotted with white, but just shaded into gray — sirengih
to pull down a bull — swiftness to cote an antelope."

The King laughed at his enthusiasm. "Well, lliou
hast given him leave (o feeep the hound, so there is an
end of it. Be not, however, liberal of your licenses
among those knights adventurers, who have no prince or
leader to depend upon — they are ungovernable, and leave
no game in Palestine. — But to this piece of learned
healbenesse — say'st thou the Scot met him in the
desert?"

"No, my liege, the Scot's tale runH thus: — He was
dispatched to the old hermit of Engaddi, of whom men ■
talk so much "

" 'Sdeath and hell ! " said Richard, starting up, " By
whom dispatched, and for what ? Who dared send any
one ihither, when our Queen was in the Convent of En-
gaddi, upon her pilgrimage for our recovery ?"

" The Council of the Crusade sent him, my lord," iui-
flwered the Baron de Vans; "for what purpose he de-
clined to account to me. I think it is scarce known in
the camp that jour royal consort is on a pilgrimage —
and even the princes may not have been aware, as the
Queen has been sequestered from company since your
love prohibited her attendance in case of infection."

" Well, it shall be looked into," said Richard. — " So
this Scottish man, this envoy, met with a wandering
physician at the grotio of Engadili— ha?"

" Not so, my liege," replied Do Vans ; " but he met, I
think, near that place, with a Saracen Emir, with whom
he had some m@l^ in the way of proof of valour, and

142

WATERLET S0VBI.3.

finding him worthy to bear brave men company, th^, i
went together, n^ errant knights are wont, to the grotto 1
of Engaddi."

Here De Vaux slopped, for he was sot one of thoU:^
who can tell a long story in a sentence.

"And did they there meet the physician ? " demanded I
the King, impatiently.

" No, my liege," replied De Vaus ; " hat the Saracen, i
leamiog your M^jefCy's grievous illness, undertook (bat '
Saladin should send iis own physiciag to you, and t
many assurances of fais eminent skill ; and he camt
the grotto accordingly, after the Scottish Knight had' I
tarried a day for him and more. He is attended as if h» I
were a prince, with drums and atahals, and serraDta (m J
horse and foot, and briaga with him letters of credenoV> I
from Saladin."

" Have they been examined by Giacomo Loredani ? " I

" I showed them to the interpreter ere bringing Qiw^ I
hither, and behold their contents in English."

Kicbard took a scroll, in which were inscribed th
words ;— " The blessing of Allah and his Prophet Ma- j
hommed, ||'Out upon the hound I' said Richard, 8pittin|} J
in contempt, by way of interjection ;] Saladin, king of- T
kings, Soldan of Egypt and of Syria, the light and refuge< 1
of the earth, to the great Melech Ric, Richard of Eng- [
land, greeting. Whereas, we have heen informed that
the hand of sickness hath been heavy upon thee, our |
royal brother, and that thou hast with thee only such
Nazarene and Jewish medioiners, as work without tha \
blessing of Allah and our holy Prophet, [' Confusion on
his head!' again muttered the English monarch,] we
have therefore sent to tend and wait npon ihee at this
time, the physician to our own person, Adonbeo el Hakim,

THE TALtSHAK.

before whose face the ange! Azrael * spreads his winga
and departs from the sick chamber; who knows tlio
virtues of herbs and stones, the path of the sun, moon,
nod stars, and can save man from all that is not written
on his forehead. And this we do, praying; you heartily
to honour and make use of his skill; not only that we
may do service to thy worth and valonr, which is ihe
glory of all the nations of Frangistan, but that we may
bring the controversy which is at present between us lo
an end, either by honourable agreement, or by open trial
thereof with our weapons, in a fair field ; seeing that it
neither becomes thy place and courage, to die the death
of a slave who hath been overwrought by bis taskmaster,
nor befits it our fame that a brave adversary be snatched
from our weapon by such a disease. And, therefore,

may the holy "

" Holtl, hold," said Richard, "I will have no more of
his dog of a Prophet ! It makes me sick to think the
valiant and worthy Soldan should believe in a dead dog.
— Tes, I will see his physician. I will piit myself into
the charge of tliis Hakim — I will repay the noble Soldan
hb generosity — I will meet Saladin in the field, as he so
worthily proposes, and he shall have no cause lo term
Richard of England ungrateful. I wilt strike him to the
earth with my battle-axe — I will convert him to Holy
Church with such blows as he has rarely endured — He
shall recant his errors before my good cross-handled
sword, and I will have him baptized in the battle field,
from my own helmet, though the cleansing waters were
mixed with the blood of ua both. — Haste, De Vans, why
dost tliou delay a conclusion so pleasing? Fetch the
Hakim hither."

vTtuAsgsIofDsHtb.

144 WAYERLEY NOVELS.

"My lord," said the baron, who perhaps saw some
accession of fever in this overflow of confidence,— " be-
think you, the Soldan is a pagan, and that you are his
most formidable enemy "

" For which reason he is the more bound to do me
service in this matter, lest a paltry fever end the quarrel
betwixt two such kings. I tell thee, he loves me as I
love him — as noble adversaries ever love each other — ^by
my honour, it were sin to doubt his good faith ! "

" Nevertheless, my lord, it were well to wait the issue
of these medicines upon the Scottish squire," said the
Lord of Gilsland; "my own life depends upon it, for
worthy were I to die like a dog, did I proceed rashly in
this matter, and make shipwreck of the weal of Christen-
dom."

" I never knew thee before hesitate for fear of life,"
said Richard, upbraidingly.

"Nor would I now, my liege," replied the stout-hearted
baron, "save that yours lies at pledge as well as my
own."

"Well, thou suspicious mortal," answered Richard,
"begone then, and watch the progress of this remedy. I
could almost wish it might either cure or kill me, for I
am weary of lying here like an ox dying of the mm'rain,
when tambours are beating, horses stamping, and trum-
pets sounding without."

The baron hastily departed, resolved, however, to
communicate his errand to some churchman, as he felt
something burdened in conscience at the idea of his
master being attended by an unbeliever.

The Archbishop of Tyre was the first to whom he con-
fided his doubts, knowing his interest with his master,
Richard, who both loved and honoured that sagacious

THE TALISMAN.

143

prelate. The bishop heard the doubts which Dc Vaux
staled, with that acuteness of intelligence which distin-
guishes the Roman Catholic clergy. Tiie religiouB
scruples of De Vaux he treated with as much lightness
as propriety permitted him to exhibit on such a subject

" Mcdiubers," he said, " like the medicitics which they
. employed, were ofl«n useful, though the one were by
birth or manners, the Tilest of humanity, as the others
are, in many cases, extracted from the basest malerials.
Men may use the assistance of pagans and infidels," he
continued, " in their need, and there is reasoD to think,
that one cause of their being permitted to remain oa
earth, is that they might minister to the convenience
of true ChriBtians — Thus, we lawfully make slaves of
heathen captisea, — Again," proceeded the prelate, " there
is no doubt that the primitive Christians used the services
of the unconverted heatlien — thus, in the ship of Alex-
andria, in which the blessed Apostle Paul sailed lo Italy,
the sailors were doubtless pagans ; yet what said the
holy saint when their ministry was needful — ' Niii hi in
navi manterinl, vm iolvijieri non poCeilu—UDlefa these
men abide in the ship, ye cannot be siived.' Again,
Jews are infidels to Christianity, as well as Mahom-
medans. But there are few physicians in the camp ex-
cepting Jews, and such are employed without scandal or
scruple. Therefore, Mahommedans may be used for
their service in that capacity — gitod erat demonstran-

This reasoning entirely removed the scruples of Thomas
de Vaux, who was particularly mored by the Latin quota-
lion, as he did not understand a word of it.

But the bishop proceeded with far less fluency, when

146 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

he considered the possibihty of the Saracen's actmg with
bad faith ; and here he came not to a speedy decision.
The bai'on showed him the letters of credence. He read
and re-read them, and compared the original with the
translation.

" It is a dish choicely cooked," he said, " to the palate
of King Richard, and I cannot but have my suspicions
of the wily Saracen. They are curious in the art of poi-
sons, and can so temper them that they shall be weeks in
acting upon the party, during which time the perpetrator
has leisure to escape. They can impregnate cloth and
leather, nay, even paper and parchment, with the most
subtle venom — Our Lady forgive me ! — And wherefore,
knowing this, hold I these letters of credence so close to
my face ? — Take them. Sir Thomas, take them speedily."

Here he gave them at arm's-length, and with some ap-
pearance of haste, to the baron. " But come, my Lord
de Vaux," he continued, " wend we to the tent of this sick
squire, where we shall learn whether this Hakim hath
really the art of curing which he professeth, ere we con-
sider whether there be safety in permitting him to exer-
cise his art upon King Richard. — Yet hold ! let me first
take my pouncet-box, for these fevers spread like an
infection. I would advise you to use dried rosemary
steeped in vinegar, my lord. I, too, know something of
the healing art."

" I thank your reverend lordships" rephed Thomas of
Gilsland ; " but had I been accessible to the fever, I had
caught it long since by the bed of my master."

The Bishop of Tyre blushed, for he had rather avoided
the presence of the sick monarch ; and he bid the baron
lead on.

As they paused before the wretched hut in which Ken*

THE TALtSMAM.

npth of the LfioparJ j
Biiid lo De Viuix, " No
tidh knigiila Lave wor
of our dogs. Here is .

[)(1 his follower aboile, (he bishop
1, of a Burety, my lord, these Scot-
e care of their foliowera than we
knight, valiant they Bity in battle,

and thought fitting to be graced with chnrges
time of truce, whose esquire of the body is bdged worse
than in t!ie worst dog-kennel in England. What say you
of your neighbours ?"

"That a master doth well enoujih for his servant, when
he lodgeth him in no worse dwelling than his own," said
De Vaux, and entered the hut.

The bishop followed, not without evident reluctance ;
for though he lacked not courage in some respects, yet it
was tempered with a strong and lively regard for his own
safety. He recollected, however, the necessity (here was
for judging personally of the skill of the Arabian physi-
cian, and entered the hut with a stateliness of manner, cal-
culated, as he thought, lo impose respect on the stranger.

The prelate was, indeed, a striking and command-
ing figure. In his youth he had been eminently hand-
some, and, even in age, was unwilling to appear less so.
His episcopal dress was of the richest fashion, trimmed
with costly fur, and surrounded by a cope of curious
needle-work. The rings on his fingers were woHh a
goodly barony, and the hood which he wore, though now
unclasped and thrown back for heal, had studs of pure
gold to fasten it around his throat and under his chin
when he so inclined. Hia long beard, now silvered with
age, descended over his breast. One of two youthful
acolyies who attended him, ci-ealed an artificial shade,
peculiar then to the East, by hearing over his head ao
umbrella of palmetto leaves, while the other refi'eshed his
reverend master by agitating a fan of peacock feathers.

148

WATEKLET JTOTSXS.

I

Wlion ihe Bishop of Tyre entered the hut of the Scot-
tish knight, the mailer was ahsent ; and the Moorish phy
eician, whom Lo had come to see, sat in the very poatiire
in which De Vau'x had left liim several hours before)
cross-legged upon a mat made of" twisted leaves, by the
Bide of the patient, who appeared in deep slumber, and
whose pulse he felt from time to time. The bishop re-
mained standing before him in silence for two or three
minutes, as if expecting some honourable salutation, or at
least that the Saracen would seem struck with the dignity
of his appearance. But Adonhec el Hakim took no no-
tice of him beyond a passing glance, and when the prelate
at length saluted him in the Lingua Franca current in the
country, he only replied by the ordinary Oriental greet-
ing, " Salam alicum — peace be with you."

" Art thou a physician, infidel ? " said the bishop, some-
what mortified at this cold receptioa. " I would speak
with thee on that art."

" If thou knewest aught of medicine," answered El
Hakim, " thou wouldst be aware, that physicians hold no
counsel or debate in the sick chamber of their patient.
Hear," he added, as the low growling of the slag-hound
was heard from the inner hut, " even the dog might teach
thee reason, Ulemat. His instinct teaches him to sup-
press Lis barking in the sick man's hearing. — Come with-
out the tent," said he, rising and leading the way, " if
thou hast aught to say with me,"

Notwithstanding the plainness of the Saracen leech's
dress, and his inferiority of size, when contrasted with
the tall prelate and gigantic English baron, thens was
something striking in hia manner and countenance, which
prevented the Bishop of Tyre from expressing strongly
the displeasure he felt at (his unceremonious rebuke.

THE TALISlUir.

U9

Wlien wiiUout the liul, he gazed upon Adonbec ii
for several minute?, before he could lix on ihe bei^t n
to renew the conversation. No locks were seen under the
high bonnet of the Arabian, which hid also part ol' a hrow
that seemed lody and" expanded, smooth, and free from
wrinkles, as were his cheeks, where they were seen under
the shade of his long beard. We have elsewhere noticed
the piercing quality of hia dark eyes.

The prelate, struck with his apparent youth, at length
broke a pnuse, which the other Bcemed in no haste to
interrupt, by demanding of the Arabian how old he was ?

"The years of ordinary men," said the Saracen, "are
counted by their wrinkles ; those of sages by their studies.
I dare not call myself older than an hundred revolutions
of the Hegira." •

The Baron of GiUland, who took this for a. literal
assertion, that he was a century old, looked doubtfully
upon tUe prelate, who, though he better understood the
meaning of E! Hakim, answered his glance by mysteri-
ously shaking his head. He resumed an air of impcr-
tance, when he again authoritatively demanded, what
evidence Adonbec could produce of hia medicjil pro-
ficiency.

" Te have the word of the mighty Saladin," said the
sage, touching bis cap in sign ot' reverence; "an'ord
which was never broken towards friend or foe, — what,
Nazarene, wouldst thou demand more ?"

" I would have ocular proof of thy sfeiH," Baid the
baron, " and without it thou approachest not to the couch
of King Richard."

" The praise of the physician," said the Arabian, " is

• Meaning, that his attniamonts ware Ihow whioh might havo bwn
made in a hmidnd yean.

150 -WATESLEt NOTELS.

in the recovery of his patient. Behold this sergeant,
whose blood has been dried up by lie fever which haa
whitened your camp with skeletons, and against which
the art of your Nazarene leeches hath been like a silken
doublet against a lance of steel. *Look at his fingers and
arms, wasted like the claws and shanks of the crane.
Death had this morning his clutch on him ; but had
Azrael been on one side of the coneh, I being on the
other, his soul should not have been reft from his body.
Disturb me not with further questions, but await the crit-
ical minute, and behold in silent wonder the marvellous

The physician had then recourse to his astroLibe, the
oracle of Eastern science, and, watching with grave pre-
cision until the precise time of the evening prayer had
arrived, be sunk on his knees, with his face turned lo
Mecca, and recited the petitions which close the Mos-
lematk's day of toil. The bishop and the English baron
looked on each other, meanwhile, with symptoms of con-
tempt and indignation, but oeither judged it fit to interrupt
El Hakim in his devotions, unholy as they considered
them to be.

The Arab arose from the earth, on which he bad pros-
trated himself, and, walking into the hut where the patient
lay extended, he drew a sponge from a small silver box,
dipt perhaps in some aromatic distillation ; for when he
put it to the sleeper's nose, ho sneezed, awoke, and looked
wildly around. He was a ghastly specticle, aa he sat u
almost naked on his couch, the bones and cartilages £
visible through the surface of his skin, as if ihey had
never been clothed with flesh; his face was long, and
furrowed with wrinkles, but his eye, thouj^ it wandered
at first, became gradually more settled. He seemed to bo

THE TALiaUAK. ]5L

uware of the presence of his diguified visitors, for he
allenipted I'eebly to pull the eovering from his head, in
tiiken of reverence, as he inquired, in a subdued and sab-
missive voice, for his master.

"Do you know us; vassal?" said the Lord of Gils-

" Not perfectly, my lord," replied the squire, feintly.
*' My sleep has been long and full of dreams. Tet I
know that juu are a great English lord, as seemeth by the ,
red cross, and this a holy prelate, whose blessing I crave
on me a poor sinner."

" Thou hast it — Benediclio Domini sit vo&itcam," gaid
the prelate, making the sign of the cross, but without
approaching nearer to the patient's bed.

"Your eyes witness," said the Arabian, "the fever
hath been subdued — he speake with calmuess and recol'
lection — his pulse beats composedly as yours — try Jta
pulsations yourself."

The prelate declined the experiment ; but Thomas of
Gilsland, more determined on making the trial, did so,
and satisfied himself that the fever was indeed gone.

"This is most wonderful," said the kniglit, looking to
the bishop ; " the man is assuredly cured. I must eoa-
duct this medidner presently to King Richard's tent —
What thinks your reverence?"

" Stay, let me finish one cure ere I commence another,"
said the Arab; "I will pass with you when I have given
my patient the second cup of this most holy eliiir."

So saying he pulled out a silver cup, and filling it with
water from a gourd which stood by the bedside, he next
drew forth a small silken bag made of network, twisted
with silver, the contents of which the bystanders could
:,i* ("iscover, and immersing it in the cup, continued

152 TTATEBLET SOVEI.S.

to watch it in silence duriog the space of five minutes.

It seemed to the cpectatora as if Bome effervescence

took place during the operation, bnt if bo, it instantlj

" Drink," said the physician to the sict man — " sleep,
and awaken free from malady."

" And with tliia simple-seeming draught, thou wilt
undertake to cure a. monarch?" said the Bishop of
Tyre.

" I have cured a beggar, as you may behold," replied
the sage, "Are the kings of Frangistan made of other
clay than the meanest of their subjects?"

" Let US have him presently (o the King," said the
Baron of Gilsland. " He hath shown that he possesses
the secret which may restore hia health. If he fails to
exercise il, I will put himself past the power of me^-

As they were about to leave the hut, the sick man,
raising his voice as much as his weakness permitted, ea-
claimed, " Reverend father, noble knight, and you, kind
leech, if you would have me sleep and recover, tell me in
charity what has become of my dear master? "

" He is upon a distant expedition, friend," replied the
prelate ; " on an honourable embassy, which may detain
him for some days."

" Nay," said the Baron of Gilsland, " why deceive the
poor fellow? — Friend, thy master has returned to the
eamp, and you will presently see him."

The invalid held up, aa if in thankfulness, his
wasted hands to Heaven, and, resisting no longer the
soporiferous operation of the elixir, sunk down in a
gentle sleep.

" Tou are a better physician than I, Sir Thomas," said

153

the prelate; "a iMxithing talsebood is fitter for a sick
n than an un pleading truth."

" How meaD you, my reverend lord?" said De Vain,
hastily. " Think you I would tell a falsehood to save
the lives of a dozen such as he ? "

" You said," replied the bishop, with manifest symp-
toms of alarm — ''you Raid, the esquire's master was re-
lumed— he, I mean, of the Couchant Leopard."

" And he W returned," said De Vaux. " I spoke with
him but a few hoiiTB Bince. This learoed leecb. came in

" Holy Virgin ! why told you not of his retufn to me ?"
said the bishop in evident perturbation.

" Did I not say that this same Knight of the Leopard
had returned in company with the physician ? — I thought
I had," replied De Vaux, carelessly ; " but what signified
his return, to the skill of the physician, or the cure of his
Majesty?"

"Much, Sir Thomas — it signified much," said the
bishop, clenching his hands, pressing his foot against the
earth, and giving signs of impatience, as if in an in-
voluntary manner. " But, where can he be gone now,
this same knight? — God he with us — here may be some
fatal errors ! "

" Yonder serf in the outer space," said De Vans, not
without wonder at the bishop's emotion, "can probably
tell us whither his master has gone."

The lad was summoned, and in a language nearly la-
comprehensible to them, gave them at length to under-
stand, that an officer had summoned his master to the
royal tent, some lime before their arrival at that of his
master. The anxiety of the bishop appeared to rise to
the highest, and became evident to De Vaux, though

151 TAVEBLET HOTELS.

neither an acute observer, nor of a suspiciouB temper.
But with hia anxiety seemed to increase liis wish to keep
it subdned and unobaerred. He took a hasty leave of
De Vaux, who looked afler him with astoniahment ; and,
after shru^ng np his shoulders in silent wonder, pro-
ceeded to conduct the Arabian phyudan to the tent of
£ing Richard. '

The Baron of Gilsland walked with slow step and nn
imsious countenance towards the rojal pavilion. He bad
much diffidence of hi^ otvn capacity, except in a field of
hatOe, and, conscious of no very acute inlelleel, was
usually contented to wonder at circumstances, which a
man of livelier imagination would have endeavoured to
investigate and understand, or at least would have made
the subject of speculation. But it seemed very extra-
ordinary, even to him, that the attention of the bishop
Hhould have been at once abstracted from all reflection on
the marvellous cure which they had witnessed, and upon
the probability it afforded of Richard being restored to
health, by what seemed a very trivial piece of informa-
tion, announcing the motions of a beggarly Scottish
knight, than whom Thomas of Gilsland knew nothing
within the circle of gentle blood more unimportant or
contemptible ; and, despite his usual habit of passively
beholding passing events, the baron's spirit (oiled with
unwonted attempts to form conjectures on the cause.

At length the idea occurred at once to him, that the
whole might be a conspiracy against King Richard,

WAVBRLKT HOTELS.

formed within the camp of the allies, and to which iho

bishop, who was by si

represented aa a politic and u

ecrtipulous person, was not unlikely (o have been a
sary. It was true, that, in his own opinion, there existed
no character so perfect as that of his master ; for Richard
being the flower of chivalry, and the chief of Christian
leaders, and obeying in all points the commands of Holy
Church, De Vaux's ideas of perfection went no farther.
Still he .knew that, however unworthily, it had been
always hia master's fate to draw as much reproach and
dislike, as honour and attachment, from the display of his
great qualities ; and that in the very camp, and amongst
those princes bound by oath to the Crusade, were many
who would have sacrificed all hope of victory over the
Saracens, to the pleasure of ruining, or at least of hum-
bling, Hichard of England.

" Wherefore," said the Earon to himself, " it is in no
sense impossible that this El Hakim, with tbis his cure, or
seeming cure, wrought on the body of the Scottish squire,
may mean nothing but a trick, to which he of the Leop-
ard may be acce:jsary, and wherein the Bishop of Tyre,
prelate as he is, may have some share,"

This hypolbcsia, indeed, could not he so easily recon-
ciled with the alarm manifested by the bishop, on learning
that, contrary to his expectation, the Scottish knight had
suddenly returned to the Crusaders' camp. But De Yaux
was influenced only by bis general prejudices, which dic-
tated to him the assured belief, that a wily Italian priest,
a false-hearted Scot, and an infidel physician, formed a
set of ingredients from which all evil, and no good, was
likely to be extracted. He resolved, however, to lay hia
scruples bluntly before the King, of whose judgment he
hftd nearly aa high an opinion aa of his valour.

I had nearly i

I lAUUUIT.

W7

Meantiroe, events had taken place very cotitrarj- to (lie
suppositioDS which Thomas de Vaax had entertiLined.
Scarce had he left the royal pavilion, when, betwixt the
impatience of the fever, and that which was natural to his
disposition, Richard began to murmur at his delay, and
express an earnest desire for his returu. He had seen
enough to try to reason himself out of this iiTitalion, vrhicfa
greatly increased his bodily malady. He wearied hia
attendants by demanding from them amusements, and the
breviary of the priest, the romance of the clerk, even ihe
harp of hia favourito minstrel, were had recourse to in
vain. At length, some two hours before sundown, and
long, therefore, ere be could expect a satisfactory account
of the process of the cure which the Moor or Arabian
had undertaken, he sent, as we have already heard, a
messenger, commanding the attendance of the Knight of
the Leopard, determined to soothe hia impatience by ob-
taining from Sir Kenneth a more particular account of
the cause of his absence from the camp, and the circum-
stances of his meeting with this celebrated physician.

The Scottish knight, thus summoned, entered the royal
presence, as one who was no stranger to such scenes.
He was scarcely known to the King of England, even by
sight, although, tenacious of his rank, as devout in the
adoration of the lady of his secret heart, he had never
been absent on those occasions when the munificenee and
hospitaUty of England opened the Court of its monarch
to all who held a certain rank in chivalry. The King
gazed fixedly on Sir Kenneth approaching hia bedside,
while the knight bent his knee for a moment, then aj'ose,
and stood before him in a posture of deference, but not oi
subservience or humility, as became an officer in the pres-
ence of hia BDVBreign. ^.

158 WAVBKLET NOVELS.

" Thy name," aaid (he King, " is Kenneth of the Leop-
ard— From whom hadst thou degree of knighthood ? "

"I took it from the Bword of William the Lion, King
of Scotland," replied the Scot.

" A weapon," said the King, " well worthy to confer
honour, nor has it been laid on an undeserving shoulder.
We have seen thee bear thyself knightly and valiantly in
press of battle, when most need there was j and thou
hadat not been yet to leani that thy deserts were known
to us, but that tky presumption in other points has been
such, that thy services can challenge no better reward
than that of pardon for thy transgression. What sayest
thou — ha ? "

Kenneth attempted to speak, bat was unable to express
himself distinctly ; the consciousness of his too ambitious
love, and the keen falcon glance with which Cteur do
Lion seemed to penetrate his inmost soul, combining to
disconcert him.

" And yet," said the King, " although soldiers should
obey command, and vassals be respectful towards their
superiors, we might forgive a brave knight greater oSence
than the keeping a simple hound, though it were contrary
to our express public ordinance."

Kichard kept his eye fixed on the Scot's face, beheld,
ajid beholding, smiling inwardly at the relief produced by
the turn he bad given to his general accusation.

" So please you, my lord," said the Scot, " your Majesty
must be good to us poor gentlemen of Scotland in this
matter. We are far from home, scant of revenues, and
cannot support ourselves as your wealthy nobles, who
have credit of the Lombards. The Saracens shall feel
our blows the harder that we eat a piece of dried venison
n time to time, with our h^bs and barley-cakes."

"It skills nat asking my leaye," said Richard, "since
Thomas da Vaux, who doth, like all around me, that
vhich is fittest in bis own eyes, hath already given thee
permission for hunting and hawking."

"For hunting only, and please you," said the Scot;
" but, if it please your Majesty to indulge me with the
privilege of hawking also, and you list to trust me with a
falcon on fist, I trust I could supply your royal mess with
some choice water-fowl,"

" I drend me, if thoa hadst but the falcon," said the
King, " thou wouldst scarce wait for the permission. I
wot well it is said abroad that we of the line of Anjou
resent offence against our forest laws, as highly as we
would do treason against our crown. To brave and wor-
thy men, however, we could pardon either misdemeanour.
— But enough of this — I desire to know of you, Sir
Knight, wherefore, and by whose authority, you took this
recent journey to the wilderness of the Dead Sea, and

" By order," replied the knight, " of the Council of
Princes of the Holy Crusade."

"And how dared any one to give such an order, when
I — not the least, surely, in the league — was unacquainted
with it ? "

" It was not my part, please your highness," said the
Scot, " to inquire into such particulars. I am a soldier
of the Cross — serving, doubtless, for the present, under
your highness's banner, and proud of the permission to do
so — hut still, one who hath taken on him the holy symbol
for the rights of Christianity, and the recovery of the
Holy Sepulchre, and bound, therefore, to obey, without
question, the orders of the princes and chiefs by whom
the blessed enterprise is directed. That indisptMition

IGO WATEStET KOTKLS.

should seclude, I irust for but a short lime, your highnesa
from their councils, in which jou hold so potential a
voice, I must lament with all Christendom ; but, aa a sol-
dier, I must obey those on whom the lawfnl right of com«
mand devolvcB, or set bat an evil example in the Christian

" Thou sa/st well," said King Richard ; " and the
blame rests not with thee., but with those with whom,
when it shall please Heaven fo raise me from this ac-
cursed bed of pain and inactivity, I hope to reckon
roundly. What wa3 the parport of thy message ? "

" Methinks, and please your highness," replied Sir
Kennelh, "that were best aaked of those who sent me,
and who can render the reasons of mine errand ; whereas
I can only tell its outward form and purport,"

" Palter not with me, Sir Scot— it were ill for thy
safety," said the irritable monarch.

" My safety, my lord," replied the knight firmly, " I
cast behind me aa a regardless thing when I avowed my-
aelf to this enterprise, looking rather to my immortal wel-
fare, than to that wiiich concerns my earthly body."

" By the mass," said King Richard^" thou art a brave
fellow I Hark thee. Sir Knight, I love the Scottish peo-
ple ; they are hardy, though dogged and stubborn, and, I
think, true men in the main, though the necessity of state
has sometimes constrained them to be dissemblers. I
deserve some love at their hand, for I have voluntarily
done what they could not by arms have extorted from
me, any more than from my predecessors — I have rees-
tablished the fortresses of RoKburgh and Berwick, which
lay in pledge to England — I have restored your ancient
boundaries — and, finally, I have renounced a claim to
homage upon the crown of England, which I thought un-

I

THE TALISMAS.

jnstly forced on you. I have endeavoured lo make bon-
ourable and independent frienda, where former kings of
England attempted only to compel unwilling and rebel-
lioua vassals."

"All thia yon have done, ray Lord King," said Sir
Kenneth, bowing — " All this you have done, by your
royal treaty with our sovereign at Canterbury. There-
fore have you me, and many better Scottish men, making
war against Ihe infidels, under your banners, w)io would
else have been ravaging your frontiers in England. If
their numbers are now few, it is because their lives have
been freely waged and wasted."

"I grant it true," said the King; "and for the good
offices T have done your land, I require you to remember,
that, as a principal member of the Christian league, I
have a right to know the negotiations of my confederates.
Do me, therefore, the justice to tell me what I Lave a
title to be acquainted with, and which I am certain to
know more truly from you than from others,"

" My lord," said the Scot, " thus conjured, I will speak
the truth ; for I well believe that your purposes towards
the principal object of our expedition are sin gle-h earl ed
and honest; and it is more than I dare warrant for others
of the Holy League, Be pleased, therefore, to know my
charge was to propose, through the medium of the hermit
of Engaddi — a holy man, respected and protected by
Saladin himself"

"A continuation of the truce, I doubt not," said Rich-
ard, hastily interrupting him.

" No, by Saint Andrew, my liege," said the Scottish
knight, "but the establishment of a lasting peace, and Ihe
withdrawing our armies from Palestine."

" Saint George ! " said Richard in astonishment — " HI

162 WAVERLEY KOVEIB.

as I have justlj thought of Ihem, I could not have
dreamed they would have bumbled themaeWes to such
dishonour. Speak, Sir Kennethj with wLat will did you
carry such a message ? "

"With right good will, my lord," said KenDeth; "be-
cause, when we had lost our noble leader, under whose
guidance alone I hoped for victory, I saw cone who could
flucceed him likely lo lead ua to conquest, and I accounted
it well in such circumstances to avoid defeat."

"And on what conditions was this hopeful peace to be
contracted?" said King Richard, painfully suppressing
the passion with which his heart was almost bursting.

" These were not intrusted to me, my lord," answered
the Knight of the Couchant Leopard. "I delivered
them sealed to the hermit."

"And for what hold you this reverend hermit ? — for
fool, madman, traitor, or saint?" said Richard,

" His folly, sire," replied the shrewd Scotlishmac, " I
hold to be assumed to win favour and reverence from
the Paynimrie, who regard madmen as the inspired of
Heaven ; at least it seemed to me as exhibited only
occasionally, and not as mixing, like natural folly, with
the general tenor of his mind."

" Shrewdly replied," said the monarch, throwing him-
self back on his conch, iiom which he had half-raised
himself — " Now of his penitence ? "

" His penitence," continued Kenneth, "appears to me
sincere, and the fruits of remorse for some dreadful crime,
for which he seems, iti his own opinion, condemned to
reprobation."

"And for his policy?" said King Richard.

" Methinks, my lord," said the Scottish knight, " he
despairs of the security of Palestine, as of his own salva*

THE TJUISUAK. 163

tion, by any means short of a miracle — at lea'it since the
arm of Richard of England hath ceased lo strike for it."

"And, therefore, the coward policy of this hermit ia
like that of these miserable prince?, who, forgetful of iheir
knighthood and their faith, are only resolved and deter-
mined when the question h retreat, and, rather ihan go
forward against an armed Saracen, would trample in
their flighl over a dying ally ! "

"Might I BO far presume, my Lord King," said the
Scottish knight, " this discourse but heats your disease,
the enemy from which Christendom dreads more evil,
than from anned lio^ts of infidels."

The counlenance of King Richard was, indeed, more
flushed, and his action became more feverishly vehement,
as, with clenched hand, expanded arm, and flashing eye?,
he seemed al once to suffer under bodily pain, and at the
same time under vexation of mind, while his high spirit
led him (o speak on, as if in contempt of both.

"You can flatter. Sir Knight," he said, "but you
escape me not. I must know more from you than you
have yet told me. Saw you my royal consort when at
Engaddi?"

" To my knowledge — no, my lord," replied Sir Ken-
neth, wilh considerable perturbation ; for he remembered
the midnight procession in the chapel of the rocks.

" I apk you," said the King, in a sterner voice, " whether
you were not in the chapel of the Carmelite nuns at En-
gaddi, and there saw Berengaria, Queen of England, aad
the ladies of her Court, who went thither on pilgrimage ? "

" My lord," said Sir Kenneth, " 1 will speak the truth
as in the confessional. In a subterranean chapel, to which
the anchorite conducted me, I beheld a choir of ladies do
'.*miage to a relic of the highest sanctity ; but as I saw

IG.

WAVEKLET [

rnit iheir faces, nor heard their voices, unlesa in
hymns which Ihey chanted, I cannot tell whether the ]
Queen of England was of the bevy."

"And was ihero no one of these ladies known to you?^

Sir Kenneth stood silent,

"I ask you," said Richard, raising himself oa hig
elbow, " as a knight and a gentleman, and I shall know 1
by your answer how you value either character — did yon, J
or did you not, know aoy lady amongst that band of (
worshippers ? "

" My lord," said Kenneth, not without much liesitation, I
"I might guess."

''And I also may guess," said the King, frowning I
"sternly; "but it is enough. Leopard as you are, Sip \
Knight, beware tempting the lion's paw. Hark ye—
become enamoured of the moon would be but an act of I
folly ; but to leap from the battlements of a lofty tower,
in the wild hope of coming within her sphere, were self
destructive madness."

At this moment some bustling was heard in the outer
apartment, and the King, hastily changing to his more
natural manner, said, " Enough — begone — speed to De
Vaux, and send him hither with the Arabian physician.
My life for the faith of the Soldan ! Would he but ab- ,
jure his false law, I would aid him with my sword to '
drive this scam of French and Austrians from bis dc^
minions, and think Palestine as well ruled by him aa ',
when her kings were anointed by the decree of Heavoa
itself."

The Knight of the Leopard retired, and presently j
afterwards the chamberlain announced a deputation from ,
the Council, who had come to wait on the Miyesty of
England.

THE TALISMAN.

"It is well they allow (hat I am living yet," was his
reply. " Who are the reverend ambassaiJors ? "

" The Gi-anii Master of the Templars, aiid the Mar-
quis of Monlserrat."

" Our brother of France loves not aick-beda," said
Richard; "yet, had PhiHp been ill, I had stood by Li^
couch long since. — Jocelyn, lay me the couch more fairly,
it is tumbled like a stormy sea — reach me yonder sleel
mirror — pass a comb through my hnir and bcaid. Tliey
look, indeed, liker a. lion's maue than a Christiau man'a
locks — bring water."

*' My lord," said the tremlding chamberlain, " the
leeches say that cold water may be fatal."

" To the foul fiend with the leecbea ! " replied the
monarch; "if they cannot cure me, think you 1 will
allow them to torment me? — Tliere, then" — he said,
afler having made bis ablutioon, " admit the worshipful
envoys; (hey will now, 1 think, scarcely see that disease
had made Richard negligent of his person."

The celebrated Master of the Templars was a tall, thin,
war-worn man, with a stow yet penetrating eye, and a
brow on which a thousand dark intrigues had stamped a
portion of their obscurity. At the head of that singular
body, to whom their order waa every thing, and ihuit
individuality nothing- — seeking the advancement of its
power, even at the hazard of that very religion which
the fi'atemity were originally associated to protect — ac-
cused of heresy and witchoraii, although by their cliarac-
ter Christian prie.=t3 — suspected of secret league with the
Soldan, though by oath devoted to the protection of the
Holy Temple, or its recovery — the whole order, and the
whoie personal character of its commander, or Grand
ftlaster, waB a riddle, at the exposition of which most

IflG TTAVEELET HOVELS.

men shuddered. The Grand Master was dressed in
white robes of solemnity, and he bare the abacus, a myotic I
staff of ofSce, the peculiar form of which has given riBt
Buch singular conjeclures and commentaries, leading to
suspicions that this celebrated fraternity of Christiaa
knights wera embodied under the foulest symbols of
Paganism.

Conrade of Montserrat had a much more pleading ex-
terior than the dark and mysterious priest-soldier by
whom he was accompanied. He was a hand?ome man,
of middle age, or something past that term, bold in the
field, sagacious in council, gay and gallant in times of
festivity; but, on the other hand, he was generally ac-
cused of versatility, of a narrow and sclfisL ambition, of a
desire to extend his own principality, without r^;ard to>
the weal of the Latin Kingdom of Palestine, and of seek-
ing his own interest, by private negotiations with Saladin,
to the prejudice of the Christian leaguers.

Wlien tlie usual salutations had been made by these
dignitaries, and courteously returned by King Bichard,
the Marquis of Montserrat commenced an explanation
of the motives of their visit, sent, as he said they were,
by the anxious Kings and Princes who composed tha
Council of the Crusaders, to " inquire into the health of
their magnanimous ally, the valiant King of England."

" We know the importance in which the Princes of the
Council hold our health," replied the English King ; " and
are well aware how much they must have suffered by
suppressing all curiosity concerning it for fourteen days,
for fear, douhtleas, of aggravating our disorder, by show-
ing iheii: anxiety regarding the event."

The flow of the Marquis's eloquence being checked,
and he liimself thrown into some confusion by this reply)

4

TUB TALISUAir.

bia more austere companion took up ilie liiroad of ihe
con Te nation, and, with as much dry aud brief gravily aa
was consistent with the presence wliich he addi-essed, in-
formed the King that ihey came from the Council lo prny,
in the name of Christendom, " that he would not suffer
his healll\ to be tampered with by an ioRdel physician,
eaid to be dispatched by Saladin, until the Council had
taken measures to remove or confirm the suspicion which
they at present conceived did attach itself to the missioa
of such a person."

" Grand Master of the Iloly and Valiant Order of
Knights Templars, and you. Moat Noble Marquis of
Montserrat," replied Richard, " if it please you to retire
into the adjoining pavilion, you shall presently see what
account we make of the tender remonstrances of our
royal and princely colleagues in thJa moat religious war-

The Marquis and Grand Master retired accordingly ;
nor had they been many minutes in the outward pavilion
when the Eastern phyaieian arrived, accompanied by the
Baron of Gilsland and Kenneth of Scotland, The baron,
however, was a little later of entering the tent than the
other two, stopping, perchance, to issue some orders lo
the warders without.

As the Arabian physician entered, he made his obei-
sance, after the Oriental fashion, to the Marqula and
Grand Masler, whose dignity was apparent, both from
their appearance and their bearing. The Grand Master
returned the salutation with an expression of disdainful
coldness, the Marquis, with the popular courtesy which
he habitually practised to men of every rank aud nation.
There was a pause ; for the Scottish knight, waiting for
the arrival of De Vaux, presumed not, of hia own author-

1C8

WATKRLBT HOVELS.

ity, to enter ilie tent of the King of England, and, during
this interval, tlie Grand Maater steinly demanded of ibo
Moslem, — " Infidel, hast thou the eour.ige to practise
thine arl upon the person of ou anoiDted sovereign of the
Christian host ? "

" The Bun of Allah," answered the sage, " shines on the
Nazarene as well as on the true believer, and his servant
dare make no distinction betwixt them, when called on to
exercise hia art of healing."

" Misbelieving Hakim," said the Grand Master, " or ,
whatsoever they call thee for an unbaptized slave of
darkness, do3t thou well know, that thou shalt he torn
asunder hy wild horses should King Hit-hard die under

" That were hard justice," answered the physician j
"seeing thai I can but use human means, and that the
issue is written in the hook of light."

" Nay, re^'erend and valiant Grand Master," eaid the
Marquis of Montseiral, " consider that this learned man
b not acquainted with our Christian order, adopted in the ,
fear of God, and for the safety of his anointed. — Be it
known to thee, grave physician, whose skill we doubt i
not, that your wisest course is to repair to the presence i
of the illustrious Council of our Holy League, and there
to give account and reckoning to such wise and learned
leeches as they shall nominate, concerning your means of
process and cure of this illustrious patient ; so shall you
escape all the danger, which, rashly taking such a high
: upon your sole answer, you may else most likely

" My lords," said Kt Hakim, "I understand you well.
But knowledge hath its champions as well as your mili-
tary art, nay, halh sometimes had its martyrs as well aa

d

THB TAUSKAB,

t«9

religion. 1 have the command of mj sovereign, Ihe
Soldan Sabilin, to heal tliis Nazarene King, and. wilh
the blessing of the Prophet, I will obey his commands.
If I fail, ye wear swords tliir?ting for the blood of the
Ikithful, and I proffer my body to your weapons. But I
will not reason with one uncircumeised upon the virtue
of the medicines of which I have obtained knowledge,
thi'ough the grace of the Prophet, and I pray you inter-
pose no delay between me and my office."

" Who talks of delay ? " said the Baron de Vaus,
hastily entering the tent ; " we have had but too much
already. — I salute you, my Lord of Montserraf, and yOU.
Taliant Grand Master. But I must presently pass with
this learned physician to the bedside of my master."

" My lord," said the Mai'quis, in Norman French, or
the language of Ouie, as it was then called, " are you
well advised that we came to expostulate on the part of
the Council of the Monarchs and Princes of the CruBede,
against the risk of permitting an infidel and Eai^tem phy-
sician to tamper with a health so valuable as that of your
master King Richard ? "

" Noble Lord Marquis," replied the Englishman,
binntly, " I can neither use many words, nor do I delight
in listening to Ihem — moreover, I am much more ready
to believe what my eyes have seen, than what my ears
have heard. I am satisfied that this heathen can cure
the sickness of King Richard, and I believe and trust he
will labour to do so. Time is precious.^If Mahommed
— may God's curse be on him ! — stood at the door of the
tent, with such fair purpose as this Adonbec el Haki
entertains, I would hold it sin to delay him for a minute.
' — So, give ye God'en, my lords."

" Nay, but," said Conrade of Moulserrat, " the Ejng

I

I

SmS ^t

170 WATBRLET fJOTBLB.

himself eaid we should be present when this same phy-
sician dealt upon him."

The baron whispered the chamberlain, probably to
know whether the Marquis spoke truly, and then replied,
"My lords, if you will hold your patience, you are wel-
come to enter with us ; but if you interrupt, by action or
threat, this accomplished physician in his duty, be it
known, that, without respect to your high quality, I will
enforce your absence from Richard's teut ; for know, I
am so well eatisfied with the virtue of this man's medi-
cines, that wei-e Richard himself to refiise them, by Our
Lady of Lanercost, I think I could find in my heart to
force him to take the means of his cure whether he
would or no. — Move onward, El Hakim."

The last word was spoken in the Lingua Franca, and
instantly obeyed by the physician. The Grand Master
looked grimly on the unceremonious old soldier, but, on
exchanging a glance with the Marquis, smoothed his
Jrowning brow as well as he could, and both followed De
Vaux and the Arabian into the inner tent, where Richard
lay expecting them, with that impatience with which the
Eick patient watches the step of his physiciao. Sir Ken-
neth, whose attendance seemed neither asked nor pro-
hibited, felt himself, by the circumstances in which he
Blood, entitled to follow these high dignitaries, but, con-
Boioua of hia inferior power and rank, remained aloof
during the scene which took place."

Richard, when they entered his apartmi
diately exclaimed, " So ho 1 a goodly fellowship c
Bee Richard take his leap in the dark. — My noble allies,
I greet you as the repreaenlalives of our assembled
league ; Richard will again be amongst you in hia former
&shion, or ye shall bear to. the grave what ia left of him.

IBS TALISMAS.

-De Vaui, Uvea he o

!3 he, thoa h

e thanks of

thy prince. — There ia yet another — but this fever bath
waaled my eyesight — what, the bold Scot, who woald
climb Heaven without a ladder? — he is welcotne too. —
Come, Sir Hakim, to the work, to the work."

The physician, who had already informed himself of
the various symptoms of the King's illness, now felt his
pnlse for a long time, and with deep attention, while all
around stood silent, and in breathless expectation. The
sage next filled a cup with spring water, and dipt into it
the small red purse, which, as formerly, he took from his
bosom. When he seemed to think it sufficiently medi-
cated he was about to offer it to the sovereign, who pre-
vented him, by saying, " Hold an instant. — Thou hast
felt my pulse — let me lay my finger on thine — I too,
as becomes a good knight, know something of thine art."

The Arabian yielded his hand without hesitation, and
his long slender dark fingers were, for an instant, en-
closed, and almost buried, in the large enfoldment of
King Richard's hand.

"His blood beats calm as an infant's," said the King;
"so throb not theirs who poison princes. Da Vaux,
whether we live or die, dismiss this Hakim with honour
and safety — Commend us, friend, to the noble Saladin.
Should I die, it is without doubt of his faith — should I
live, it will be to thank him aa a warrior would desire to
be thanked."

He then raised himself in bed, took the cup in hia
hand, and, turning to the Marquis and the Grand Master,
— " Mark what I say, and let my royal brethren pledge
me in Cyprus wiae,— 'To the immortal honour of the
first Crusader, who shall strike lance or sword on the gate
of Jerusalem ; and to the shame and eternal infamy of

172 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

whomsoever shall turn hack from the plough on which he
hath laid his hand I ' "

He drained the cup to the bottom, resigned it to the
Arabian, and sunk back, as if exhausted, upon the
cushions which were arranged to receive him. The
physician, then, with silent but expressive signs, directed
that all should leave the tent excepting himself and De
Yaux, whom no remonstrance could induce to withdraw.
The apartment was cleared accordingly.

CHAPTER X.

The Marquis of Montserrat and the Grand Maaler of
(he Knighte Tcmplara, etood together in the front of tbe
royal pavilion, within which this singular scene bad
passed, and heheld a strong guard of bills and bows
drawn out lo form a circle around it, and keep at dis-
tance all which might disturb Che sleeping monarch. Tiie
Eoldiers wore the downcast, silent, and sullen looks, with
which they trail their arms at a funeral, and Stepped with
euch caution that you could not hear a buckler ring, or a
Bword clatter, though so many men in armour were
moving around the tonL They lowered their weapons in
deep reverence, as the dignitaries passed through their
files, but with the ?amo profound silence.

" There is a change of cheer among Iheae island dogs,"
eaid the Grand Master to Conrade, when they had passed
Richard's guards. " What hoarse tumult and revel used
to be before this pavilion ! nought but pitching the bar,
hurling the ball, wrestling, roaring of songs, clattering of
wine-pots, and quaffing of flagons, among these burly yeo-
men, as if they were iiolding some country wako with a
Maypolein tbe midst ofthera, instead of a royal standard."

174 WAVEBLET

" Mastiffs are a faithful raire," said Conrade ; " and the
King tlieir master has won their lave by being ready to
wrestle, brawl, or revel amongst the foremost of tbem
wbenever the humour seized him."

" He is totally compounded of humours," said the
Grand Master. "Marked you the pledge he gave ns,in-
Btead of a prayer, over hia grace-cup yonder ? "

" He would have felt it a grace-cup, and a well-spiced
one too," said the Marquis, " were Saladin like any other
Turk that ever wore turban, or turned him to Mecca at
call of the Muezzin. But he affects faitli, and honour,
and generosity, — as if it were for an unbaptized dog like
him to practise the virtuous bearing of a Christian
knightl It is said he hath applied to Kichard to be
admitted within the pale of chivalry."

" By Saint Bernard ! " exclaimed the Grand Master,
"it were time then to throw off our belts and spui-a, Sir
Conrade, deface our armorial bearings, and renounce oar
burgonets, if the highest honour of Christianity were
conferred ori an unchrist^ned Turk of teapence."

" You rate the Soldan cheap," replied the Marquis ;
"yet though he be a likely man, I have seen a bett«r
heathen sold for forty pence at the bagnio."

They were now near their horses, which stood at some
distance from the royal tent, prancing among the gallant
train of esquires and pages by whom they were atleuded,
when Conrade, after a moment's pause, proposed that
they should enjoy the coolness of the evening breeze
which had arisen, and, dismissing their steeds and attend-
ants, walk homewards to their own quartern, through the
lines of the extended Christian camp. The Grand
Master assented, and they proceeded to walk together
accordingly, avoiding, as if by mutual consent, the more

I

THE TALISUAV.

175

inhabited parts of the canvaa city, and tracing the broad
esplanade which lay between the tenta and the external
defences, where they could converse in privBte, and un-
marked, save by the sentinels as they passed tliem.

They spoke for a time upon the military points and
preparations for defence ; but this sort of discourse, in
which neither eeemed lo take interest, at length died
away, and there was a long pause, which terminated by
the Blarquia of Montserrat stopping short, like a man
who has formed a sudden resolution, and, gazing for some
moments on the dark inflexible countenance of the Grand
Master, he at length addressed him thus ; — " Slight it
consist with your valour and sanctity, reverend Sir Giles
Amaury, I would pray yon for once to lay aside the dark
viaor which yon wear, and to converse with a friend
barefaced."

The Templar half smiled.

" There are light-coloured masks," he said, " as well as
dark vizors, and the one conceals the natoral features as
completely as the other."

" Be it so," said the Marquis, putting his hand to hia
chin, and withdrawing it with the action of one who uo-
masks himself; " there lies my disguise. And now, what
think you, as touching the interests of your own Order,
of the prospects of tliis Crusade?"

"Tiiis is tearing the veil from my thoughts rather than
exposing your own," said the Grand Master ; " yet I will
reply with a parable told to me by a sanlon of the desert.
— ' A certain farmer prayed to Heaven for rain, and
murmured when it fell not at his need. To punish his
impatience, Allah,' said the santon, ' sent the Ei
upon his farm, and he was destroyed with all his
sions, even by the granting of his own wishes."

L

punish his ^^H
Euphrates ^^H
his possea- ^^H

]7G

WAVEHLET SOVBILS.

"Most truly apoken," said the Marquia Conrade;
"would that the ocean had swallowed up ninpteen parts
of the armaments of these western priucea ! wliat re-
mained would better have served the purpose of the
Christian nobles of Palestine, the wretched remnant of
the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem. Left to ourselves, we
might have beat to the storm, or, moderately supported
witb money and troops, we might have compelled Saladin
to respect our valour, and grant us peace and protection
on easy terms. But from the extremity of danger with
which this powerful Crusade threatens ths Soldan, we
cannot suppose, should it pass over, that the Saracen will
suffer any oue of us to hold possessions or principalities
in Syriii, far less permit the existence of the Christian
military fraternities, &om whom they have experienced
BO much mischief."

"Ay, but," said the Templar, "these adventurous
Crusaders may succeed, and again plant the Cross on the
bulwarks of Zion,"

"And what will that advantage either the Order
of the Templars, or Conrade of Montserrat?" stud the
Marquis.

"You it may advantage," replied the Grand ^faster.
" Conrade of Montserrat might become Conrade King of
Jerusalem."

"That sounds like something," said the Marquis, "and
yet it rin^ but hollow.— Godfrey of Bouillon might well
choose the crown of thorns for his emblem. Grand Mas-
ter, I will confess to you I have caught some attachment
to the Eastern form of government: A pure and simple
monarchy should consist but of king and subjects. Such
b the simple and primitive structure — a shepherd and his
flock. All this internal chain of feudal dependence is

L

arlificial jind sopbisticalcd, and I would rather Lold the
baton of my poor laarquisate with a firm gripe, and wield
it after my pleasure, than the sceptre of a monarch, to be
in effect restrained mid curbed by the will of as many
proud feudal barons as hold land under the Assize of
Jerusalem." A King should tread freely, Grand Master,
and should not be controlled by here a ditch, and there a
fence — here a feudal privilege, and there a mail-clad
baron, with his sword in hia hand to raaintain it To
Hum the whole, I am aware that Guy do Lusignan's
claims to the throne would he prefern?d to mine, if Bich-
ard recovers, and has aught to say in the choice."

" Enough," said the Grand Master; " thou hast indeed
coaviDced me of thy sincerity. Otliers may hold the
same opinions, but few, save Conrade of Montserrat,
dared frankly avow that he desires not the restitution of
the kingdom of Jerusalem, but rather prefers being mas-
ter of a portion of its fragments ; like the barbarous
islanders who labour not for ihe deliverance of a goodly
vessel from the billows, expecting rather to enrich them-
selves at the expense of tlie wreck."

"Thou wilt not betmy my counsel?" said Conrade,
looking sharply and suspiciously. " Kuow, for certain,
that my tongue shall never wrong my head, nor my hand
forsake (he defence of either. Impeach me if tliou wilt
— I am prepared to defend myself in the lists against the
best Templar who ever laid lance in rest."

• The Asaiaes da JenisaleTn were the digest of feudal law, com-
posed by Godfrey of Boulogne, for the govemnioDt of the Latin king-
dom of PaleeUiie, nhen reconquered from the Suruceus. "It was
oompoaed irith advice of the pntilaroh and barona, the clergy and
lajty, nnd is," says the historian Gibbon, " n preclou!! raoamuenl of
fendstory jarispniileiice, founded upon those principles of fteedoa
which were essential to the iiyBtem."

vol.. x]ciii. la

178

" Yet thoa start's! somewhat suddenly for so bold a
Bleed," said the Grand Master. " However, I swear to
thee by the Holy Temple, which our Order is sworn to
defend, that I will keep eounsel with thee as a true com-
rade."

" By which Temple ? " said the Marquis of MoDtaerrat,
whose love of sarcasm oflen outran his pohcy aad discre-
tion ; — " swearest thou by that on the hill of Zion, which
was built by King Solomon, or by that symbolical, em-
blematical edifice, which ia said to be spoken of in the
councils held in the vaults of your Pi-eceptories, as some-
thiog which infers the aggraadizemeat of thy valiant and
Tenerable Order ? "

The Templar scowled upon him with an eye of death,
but answered calmly, " By whatever Temple I swear, ba
asaurud. Lord Marquis, my oath is sacred. — I would I
knew how to bind t/iee by one of equal obligation."

"I will swear truth to thee," said the Marquis, laugh-
ing, " by the Earl's coronet, which I hope to convert, ere
these wars are over, into Bomething better. Jt feels cold
on my brow, that same slight coronal ; a duke's cap of
maintenance were a better protection against sucii a night-
breeze as now blows, and a king's crown more preferable
etill, being lined with comfortable ermine and velvet. In
a word, our interests bind us together ; for thjnk not. Lord
Grand Master, that, were these allied Princes lo regain
Jerusalem, and place a king of their own choosing there,
they would suffer your Order, any more than my poor
Marquiaate, to retain the independence which we now
hold. No, by Our Lady 1 In such case the proud
knights of Saint John must again spread plasters, and
dress plague-sores in tjie hospitals ; and you, most puis-
umt and venerable Knights of the Temple, must return

tHB TALISMAK. 179

to your eoadilion of simple men-at-arma, sleep tliree on n
pallet, and mount two upon one horse, as your present
seal still expresses to have been your ancient most ttiniple

"The rank, privileges, and opulence of our Order pre-
vent so much degradation as you threaten," said the
Templar, haughtily.

" These are your bane," said Conrade of Montserrat ;
" and you, as well as I, reverend Grand Mailer, know,
that, were the allied Princes to be succesaful in Palestine,
it would be their first point of policy to abate the inde-
pendence of your Order, which, but for the protection of
our holy father the Pope, and the necessity of employing
your valour in the conquest of Palestine, you would long
since have experienced. Give them complete success,
and you will be fluag aside, as the splintersof a broken
lance are tossed out of the tilt-yard."

" There may be truth in what you say," said the Tem-
plar, darkly smiling; "but what were our hopes should
the allies withdraw their forces, and leave Palestina in
the grasp of Saladin ? "

" Great and assured," replied Conrade ; " (he Soldan
would give large provinces to maintain at his behest a
body of well-appointed Prankish lances. In Egypt, in
Persia, an hundred such auxiliaries, joined to his own
light cavalry, would turn the battle against the most fear-
ful odds. This dependence would be but for a time —
perhaps during the life of this enterprising Soldan — but
in the East, empires arise like mushrooms. Suppose him
dead, and us strengthened with a constant succession of
fiery and adventurous spirits from Europe, what might
we not hope to achieve, uncontrolled by these monarchs,
whose dignity throws us at present into the shade — and

180

WAVEBLKT MOVBLS.

were they to remain here, and eucceed in this expedition,
would willingly consign ub for ever to degradatioa and
dependence ? "

" You Bay well, my Lord Marquis," said the Grand
Maijter ; " and your words find an echo in my bosom.
Yet mui^t we be cautious ; Philip of France ia wise as
well as valiant."

" True, and will be therefore the more easily diverted
from an ezpediljoo, to which, id a moment of enthusiasm,
or urged by hia nobles, he rashly bound himself. He ia
jealous of King Richard, his nature! enemy, and longs
to return to prosecute plans of ambition nearer to Paris
than Palestine. Any fair pretence will serve him for
withdrawing from a scene, in which he is aware he is
wasting the force of hia kingdom."

"And the-Duke of Austria?" said the Templar.

" Oh, touching the Duke," returned Conrade, " his self-
conceit and foliy lead him to the same conclusions as do
Philip's policy and wisdom. He conceives himself, God
help the while, ungratefully treated, because men's mouths,
— even those of hia own minne-singeri* — are filled with
the praises of King Richard, whom he fears and hates,
and in whose harm he would rejoice, like those unbred
dastardly curs, who, if the foremost of the pack ia hurt
by the gripe of the wolf, are mucli more likely to assail
the sufferer from behind, than to come to his assistance.—
But wherefore toll I this to thee, save to show that I am
in sincerity in desiring that this league be broken up, and
the country freed of these great monarchs with their
hosts? and thou well knowest, and hast thyself seen, how
all the princes of influence and power, one alone exceptedj
are eager to enter into treaty with the Soldan."
* The Gorman mUtBtrels wore ao termed.

TBK TALraiuir.

Ifil

"I ackuowledge it," said the Templar; ' he were blind
tliat had not seen this in their last deliberations. But lill
yet thy mask an inch higher, and tell me thy real reason
for pressing upon the Council that Northern Englishman,
or Scot, or whatever jou call yond<j Knight of tho
Leopard, to carry their proposals for a treaty ? "

" There was a policy in if," replied ihe Italian ; '' his
character of native of Britain was sufficient to meet what
Saladin required, who knew him to belong lo the band
of Richard, while his character of Scot, and certain other
personal grudges which I wot of, rendered it moat un-
likely that our envoy should, on his return, hold any com-
munication with the sick-bed of Richard, to whom hia
presence was ever unacceptable."

" Oh, too fine-spun policy," said the Grand Master ;
" trust me, that Italian spiders' ivcbs will never bind this
unshorn Samson of the Isle — well if you can do it with
new cords, and those of the toughest. See you not that
the envoy whom you have selected so carefully, hath
brought uri, in this physician, the means of restoring the
lion-hearted, buU-necked Englishman, to prosecute his
Crusading enterprise ; and, so soon as be is able once
more to rush on, which of the princes dars hold back ? —
They must follow him for very shame, although they
would march under the banner of Satan as soon."

*' Be content," said Conrade of Montserrat ; " ere this
physician, if he work by any thing short of miraculous
agency, can accomplish Richard's cure, it may be possible
to put some open rupture betwixt the Frenchman, at least
the Austrian, and his allies of England, so that the breach
shall be irreconcilable ; and Richard may arise from his
bed, perhaps to command his own native troops, but never
again, by hia sole energy, to wield the fcrce of the whola
Crusade."

183

WATBRLET 1I0TB1.8.

^^^^^^^ihe name i

"Thou art a willing archer," said (he Templai' } ■'buL
Conrade of MonlserraC, thy bow is oyer alack to carrj
an arrow to the mark."

He theo slopped sbort, cast a suspicious glance to see
that no one overheard him, and taking Conrade hy the
hand, pressed it eagerly as he looked the Italian in the
face, and repeated slowly, — " Richard arise from his bed,
Eay'st thou ? — -Conrade, he must never arise ! "

The Marquis of Montserrat started — "What I — spoke
you of Richard of England — of Cceur. de Lion — the
champion of Christendom ?"

Kis cheek turned pale, and his knees trembled as he
spoke. The Templar looked at him, with his iron visage
contorted into a pmile of contempt.

*• Know'st thou what ihou look'st like, Sir Conrade, at
this moment? Not like the politic and valiant Marquis
of Montserrat'— not like him who would direct the Coun-
cil of Princea, and determine the iate of empires — but
like a novice, who, stambling upon a conjuration in his
master's hook of gramarye, haa raised the devil when he
least thought of it, and now stands terrified at the spirit
which appears before him,"

" I grant you," said Coqrade, recovering himself, " that
— unless somt other snre road could be discovered — thou
hast hioted at that which leads most direct to our purpose.
Bnl, blessed Mary! we shall become the curse of all
Europe, the malediction of every one, from the Pope on
his throne to the very beggar at the church-gate, who,
ragged and leprous, in the last . extremity of human
wretchedneas, shall bless himself that he is neither Gilei
Amaurj, nor Conrade of Montserrat."

If thou lakest it thus," said the Grand Master, witV
tiame composure which characterized him all through

THE TALISIUII.

186

Itit UB hold Iher
3 have spoken !

has nothing

tills remarkable dinlogue, "
passed between us — thai «
have awalienecl, and llie via

"It never can depart," answered Conrade.

"Visions of ducal crowns and kingly diadems are,
indeed, somewhat tenacious of their place in the imagina'
tion," replied the Grand Master.

" Well," answered Conrade, " let me but first try it
break peace between Austria and England."

They parted, — Conrade remained standing slill upon
the spot, and watching the flowing while cloak of the
Templar, aa he stalked slowly away, and gradually dis-
appeared amid tlie fast-sinking darkness of the Oriental
night. Proud, ambitious, unscrupulous, and politic, the
Marquis of Monlaen-at was yet not cruel by nature. He
was a voluptuary and an epicurean, and, like many who
profess this character, was averse, even upon selfish mo-
tives, from inflicting pain, or witnessing acts of cruelly ;
and he retained also a general sense of respect for his
own reputation, which soraelimes supplies the want of
the better principle by which reputation is to be main-
tained.

" I have," he Baid, as hia eyes still watched the point
at which he had seen the last alight wave of the Tem-
plar's mantle, — " I have, in truth, raiaed the devil with
a vengeance I Who would have thought this stem
ascetic Grand Master, whose whole fortune and misfor-
tune are merged in that of his Order, would be willing to
do more for its advancement, than I who labour for my
own interest? To check this wild Crusade was my mo-
tive, indeed, but I durst not think on the ready mode
which this determined priest has dared to suggest — yet it
ie the surest — perhaps even the safest."

I

i

184 WATKRLET MOVKLB,

Such were Ihc Marquis's meditationii, when his mut- .
lered eohloqny waa broken by a voice from a little
distance, which proclaimed with the emphatic tone of a
lieraid, — " Remember the Holy Sepulchre ! "

The exhorialion was echoed from post to post, for it
was the duty of the sentiuela to raise this cry from time
to time upon their periodical watch, that the host of the
Crusaders might always have in their remembrance the
purpose of (heir being in arms. But though Conrade
was familiar with the custom, and had heajd tlie warning
voice on all former occasions as a matter of habit ; yet it
came at the present moment so strongly in contact with
hia own train of thought, that it seemed a voice from
Heaven warning him against the iniquity which his heart
meditated. He looked around anxiously, as if, lilie the
patriarch of old, though from very different circumstances,
he waa expecting some ram caught in a thicket — some
substitution for the sacrifice, which his comrade proposed
to offer, not to the Supreme Being, but to the Moioch of
their own ambition. As he looked, the broad folds of the
ensign of England, heavily distending itself to the failing
night-breeze, caught his eye. It was displayed upon an
artificial mound, nearly in the midst of the camp, which
perhaps of old some Hebrew chief or champion had
chosen as a memorial of his place of rest. If so, the
name was now forgotten, and the Crusaders had cbris
tened it Saint tieorge's Mount, because from that com
manding height the banner of England was superemi
nently displayed, as if an emblem of sovereignty over the
many distinguished, noble, and even royal ensigns, which
floated in lower situations.

A quick intellect like that of Conrade catches ideas
from the glance of a moment A single look on th»

THE TALISMAN. 185

standard seemed to dispel the uncertainty of mind which
had affected him. He walked to his pavilion with the
hasty and determined step of one wlio has adopted a
plan which he is resolved to achieve, dismissed the almost
princely train who waited to attend him, and, as he com-
mitted himself to his couch, muttered his amended resolu-
tion, that the milder means are to he tried before the
more desperate are resorted to.

" To-morrow," he said, " I sit at the board of the Arch-
duke of Austria— -we will see what can be done to advance
our purpose, before prosecuting the dark suggestions of
this Templar."

TTAVERLET NOTBXS.

CHAPTER XL

Oeu thibg it ocitsJa la I

Sra D^viD LlHIiiUT.

Leopold, Grand Duke of Austria, was the first pos-
sessor of that noble counlry to whom Ihe princely rank
beloDged. He had been raised to the ducal sway in the
Gerinan empire, on account of bis near relationship to
the Emperor, Henry the Stern, and held under his gov-
ernment the finest provinces which are watered by the
Danube. His character has been stained in history, on
account of one action of violence and perfidy, which arose
out of these very Iranaactiona in the Holy Land ; and yet
the shame of having made Richard a prisoner, when he
Tetitmcd through his dominions, unattended, and in dis-
guise, was not one which flowed from Leopold's natural
disposition. He was rather a. weak and a vain, than an
ambitious or tyrannical prince. His mental powers re-
sembled the qualities of his person. He was fall, strong,
and handsome, with a complexion in which red and
while were strongly contrasted, and had long flowing
locks of fair hsur. But there was an awkwardness in
his gait, which seemed as if his size was not animated by

187

energy Buffictent to pat in motion such a arna* ; und in
the aame manner, wearing the rit^best dressea, it alwnjs
seemed aa if thej becRme him not. As a priDce, lie ap-
peared too little familiar with liia own dignity, and being
often at a 1o?b how to assert his authority when the occa-
aion demanded it, he frequently thought himself obliged
to recover, by acta and espressiona of ill-timed violence,
the ground which might have been easily and gracefully
maintained by a little more presence of mind in the be-
ginning of the conlroveray.

Not only were these deficiencies visible to others, but
the Archduke himself could not but sometimes entertain
a painful consciousneas that he was not altogether fit to
maintain and assert the high rank which he had acquired ;
and to this was joined the atrong, and sometimes (he just
suspicion, that others esteemed him lightly accordingly.

"When he first joined the Crusade, with a moat princely
attendance, Leopold had desired much to enjoy the friend-
ship and intimacy of Richard, and had made such ad-
vances towards cultivating hia regard, as the King of
England ought, in policy, to have received and answered.
But the Archduke, though not deficient in bravery, was
BO infinitely inferior to Coiur de Lion in that ardour of
mind which wooed danger as a bride, that the King very
soon held bim in a certain degree of contempt. Richard,
also, as a Norman Prince, a people with whom temper-
ance was habitual, despised the inclination of the German
for the pleasures of the table, and particularly his liberal
indulgence in the use of wine. For these and other per-
sonal reasons, the King of England very soon looked
upon the Austrian Prince with feelings of contempt,
which he was at no pains to conceal or modify, and
which, therefore, were speedily remarked, and returned

188 WAVEELET N0TEL9.

wLih deep hatred, by tbe suspicious Leopold. Tlie dis-
cord belwecn them was fanned by the secret and politic
arts of Phihp of France, one of the most sagacious mon-
archs of the time, who, dreading t!ie fiery and overbearing
charactei' of Richard, considering him as his natural rival,
and feeling ofrended, moreover, at the diclalorial manner
in which he, a vassal of France for bis continental do^
mains, conducted himself towards his liege lord, cndeav-
oored to atrenglhen his own party, and weaken that of
Richard, by uniting the Crusading princes of inferior
degree, in resistance to what he termed the usurping
authority of the King of England. Such was the state
of politics and opinions enterfained by the Archduke of
Austria, when Conrade of Montserrat resolved upon em-
ploying his jealousy of England as the means of dissolv-
ing, or loosening at least, the league of the Crusaders.

The time which he chose for his visit was noon, and
the pretence, to present the Archduke with some choice
Cyprus wine which had lately fallen into his hands, and
discuss its comparative merits with those of Hungary a
of the Rhine. An intimation of his purpose was of course
answered by a courteous invitation to partake of the Arch-
ducal meal, and every effort was used to render it fitting
the splendour of a sovereign prince. Yet, the refii
taste of the Italian saw more cumbrous profusion, than
elegance or splendour, in the display of provisions under
which the board groaned.

The Germans, though still possessing the martial and
frank character of their ancestors, who subdued the Ko-
man empire, had retained withal no slight tinge of their
barbarism. The practices and principles of chivalry were
not carried to such a nice pitch amongst them, as amon
the French and English knights, nor were they strict ob-

servers of the prescribed nilea of Bociety, wlucli among
those nationa were supfio^ed to express the height of
cirilizatioD. Sitting at tbe table of the Archduke, Con-
rade was at once stunned and arauscd, with the clang of
Teutonic rounds ai^saulting Lis ears on all sides, notwith-
Elanding the solemnity of a princely bitnqueL Their dress
seemed equally fantaslic to him, many of the Austrian
nobles retaiuing their long beards, and almost all of lliem
wearing short jerkins of various colours, cut, and flour-
ished, and fringed, in a, manner not common in Western

Numbers of dependents, old and young, attended in the
pavilion, mingled at limes in the conversation, received
from their masters the relics of Ihe entertainment, and
devoured them as they stood behind the hacks of (he
company. Jesters, dwarfs, and minslrels, were Ihere in
unusual numbers, and more noisy and intrusive than they
were permitted to be in better regulated society. Aa
they were allowed to share freely in ihe wine, which
flowed round in large quantities, their licensed tumult
■was the more excessive.

All this while, and in the midst of a clamour and con-
fusion, which would better have become a Germnn tavern
during a fair, than the tent of a eovereign prince, the
Archduke was waited upon with a minuteness of form
and observance, which showed how anxious he was to
maintain rigidly the stale and character to which his ele-
vation had entitled him. He was served on the knee,
and only by pages of noble blood, fed upon plate of silver,
and drank his Tokay and Rhenish wines from a cup of
gold. His ducal mantle WA'^ splendidly adorned with
ermine, his coronet might have equalled in value a royal
crown, and his feet, cased in velvet ehoes, (the length of

190

which, peaks included, might be two feet,) rested upon a
footstool of solid silver. But it served pnrtly to iatimate
the character of the man, that, although deairoua to show '
attentioQ to (he Marquis of Monlserrat, whom he had cour>
teouslj placed at his right hand, he gave much more of
his attention to his ipruch'Sprecher, that is, his man of eon-
vBT^ation, or iayer oftayings, who stood behind the Duke's
right shoulder.

This personage was well attired, in a cloak and doublet
of black velvef, the last of which was decorated with va-
rious silver and gold coins, stitched upon it, in memory
of the munificent princes who had conferred them, and
beai'ing a short staff, to which a]so bunches of silver coins
were attached by rin^s, which he jingled by way of at-
tracting attention, when he was about to say any thing
which he judged worthy of it. This person's capacity in
the household of the Archduke, was somewhat betwixt
that of a minstrel and a counsellor ; he was by turns a
flatterer, a poet, and an oi-ator ; and those who desired to
be well with the Duke, generally studied to gain the good-
will of the spruclisprecher.

Lest too mnch of tliis officer's wisdom should become
tiresome, the Duke's other shoulder was occupied by his
hoff-narr, or court jester, called Jonas Scbwanker, who
made almost as much noise with his fool's-cap, belis, and
bauble, as did the orator, or man of talk, with his jingling
baton.

These two personages threw out grave and comic non-
sense alternately, while their master, laughing or applaud-
ing.them himself, yet carefully watched the countenance
of his noble guest, to discern what impressions so accom-
phsbed a cavaUer received from this display of Austnan
eloquence and wit. It ia hard to say whether tlie maa

TUR TALIBXAH.

of wiAJoin or ilie man of full; contributi-d mo^l to ihe
tunusemeot of tlie party, or stood big)ie^t in tlio esiima-
' lion of their princely master ; but the sallies of both
eeemfd exceUenlly well received. SonielJmM iln;y be-
canie rivals for llie conversation, and clangfid ilicir flap-
pers in emulation of each other, nith a mo^t alarming
contention ; but, in general, they seemed on i'ucli good
tenns, and so accustomed lo support eacli other's play,
that the spruch-iprecher often condescended lo follow up
the jester's witticisms with an explanation, to render them
more obvious lo the capacity of the audience ; so that hia
wisdom became a sort of commenlary on the buffoon's
folly, And sometimes, in requital, the hoff-narr, with a
pithy Jest, wound up the conclusion of the orator's tedious
harangue.

Whatever his real sentiments might be, Conradc look
especial care that his countenance should express nothing
but satisfaction with what he heard, and smiled oi' ap-
plauded as zealously, lo all appearance, »s Ihe Archduke
himself, at the solemn folly of the eprueh'iprecher, and
the gibbering wit of the fool. In fact, he watched care-
fully until the one or other should introduce some topic,
favourable to the purpose which was uppermost in hia

It was not long ere the King of Englund was brought
on the carpet by the jester, who had been accustomed lo
consider Dickon of the Broom (which in-everent epithet
he substituted for Richard Planlagenet) as a subject of
mirth, acceptable and inexhaustible. The orator, indeed,
was silent, and it was only when applied to by Conrade,
that he observed, " The geniata, or broom-plant, was an
emblem of humility ; and it would be well when those
who wore it would remember the warning."

192

TTAVERLEY KOVELS.

Tlie allusion to iLe illustrious badge of Planlagenet was
thus rendered sufflcieiitlj manifest, and Jonas Schwanker
observed, that thej who humbled themselves had been '
exalted with a vengeance.

" Honour unto whom honour is due," answered the
Miirquis of Montserrat ; " *e have all had some part in
these marches and battles, and methioks other priocea
might share a little in the renown which Eichard of Eng-
land engrosses amongst minstrels and minnesingert. Has
no one of the Joyeuse science here present a song in
praise of the royal Archduke of Austria, our princely
entertainer ? "

Three minstrels emulously stepped forward with voice
and harp. Two were silenced with difficulty by the
iprucli-sprecher, who seemed to act as master of the
reveii, and a hearing was at length procured for the poet
preferred, who sung, in high German, stanzas which may
be thus translated :—

What brave chief sbnll hend the forces,

Where tlia red-croaa loglons gather?
Best of horeemea, best of horses,

Highest head and fairest feather.

Here the orator, jiaghng his staff, interrupted the bard
to intimate to the party what they might not have in-
ferred from the description, that their royal host was the
party indicated, and a full crowned goblet went round
to the acclamation — Hoch lebe der Herzog Leopold!
Another stanza followed.

isk not Anatria why, midst prinoea,
Still her bftnuer irises highest;

4ak &8 wel] the Btrong-wing'd eagle.
Why to Heaven bB eoots the nighest.

THE TA-l-ISMAS. 193

"The eagle,** said ihe cxpoiimler of dark sayings, "is
the cognizance of our noble lord (he Archdiilie- — of his
royal Gra«;, I would Bay— and the eagle flies the
highest and nearest to the eun of all the foaihered
creation."

"The lion hath taken a spring above llie eagle," said
Conrade, carelessly.

The Archduke reddened, and fixed hin eyes on the
speaker, while the spruch-sprecher answered after a min-
nle'a consideration, " The Lord Marquis will pardon me
— a hon cannot fly above an eagle, because no lion halh
got wings."

"Except the Lion of Saint Mark," responded the

" That is the Venetian's banner," said the Duke ; " but
assuredly, that amphibious race, half nobles, half mer-
chants, will not dare to place their rank in compoiison
with ours?"

" Nay, it was not of the Venetian lion that I spoke,"
said the Marquia of Moutserrat ; " but of the three lions
passant of England — formerly, it is said, they were
leopards, but now they are become lions at all points, and
must take precedence of beast, fish, or fowl, or woe worth
the gain slander."

" Mean you seriously, my lord ? " said the Anstrian,
now considerably flushed with winej "think you that
Richard of England asserts any preeminence over the
free Hovereigna who have been his voluntary allies in this
Crusade?"

"I know not but from circumstances," answered Con-
rade ; " yonder hangs his banner alone in the midst of
our camp, as if he were king and generalissimo of our
whole Christian ai'my,"

"And do you endure this so patiently, and speak of it
BO coldly ?" esid the Archduke.

" Nay, my lord," answered Conrade, " it cannot con-
cern the poor Marquia of Montserrat to contend against
an injury, patiently eobmitted lo by such potent princes
as PhiL'p of France and Leopold of Austria. "What dis-
honour you are pleased to submit to, cannot be a disgrace
to me."

Leopold closed his fist, and struck on the table with
Tiolence,

"I have told Philip of this," he said ; " I have often
told him tbat it was our duty to protect the inferior
princes against the usurpation of this blande; — but he
answers me ever with cold respects of their relations
bother as suzenun and vassal, and that it were im-
politic in him to make an open breach at this time and

" The world knows that Philip is wise," said Conrade,
"and will judge his submission to be policy. — Yours, my
lord, you can youraelf alone account for; but I doubt not
you have deep reasons for submitting to English domina-
tion."

"7 submit ! " said Leopold, indignantly — " J, the Arch-
duke of Austria, so important and vital a limb of tho
Holy Roman empire — / submit myself to this King of
half an island— this grandson of a Norman bastard ! —
No, by Heaven 1 The camp, and all Christendom, shall
8ee that I know how to right myself, and whether I yield
ground one inch to the English bandog. — Up, my lieges
and merry-men, up and follow me ! We will — and that
without losing one instant — place the eagle of Austria,
■where she shall float as high as ever floated the cogni-

lance of kin

r kaisar."

195

With that be started from his wat, and, nmiclst. the
tumultuous cbeeriag of his guests and followers, made
for the door of the pavilion, and sei:!ed liia own banner,
Shich stood pitched before it.

" Nay. my lord," said Conrade, affecting to interfere,
"it will blemisli your wisdom to make an uffray in the
camp at this hour, and perhaps it is belter to sub-
mit to the usurpation of England a little longer than
to"

" Not an hour — not a moment longer," vouiferated the
Duke ; and, with the banner in his tiand, and followed hy
his shouting guests and attendants, marched hastily to tha
central mount, from which the banner of England fioated,
and laid his hand on the standard-spear, as if to pluck it
from the ground.

"My master, my dear master ! " said Jonas Sch wanker,
throwing his arms about the Duke — " take heed — lions
have teeth "

"And eagles have claws," said the Duke, not relin-
quishing his hold on the banner-staff, yet hesitating to
puli it from the ground.

The speaker of sentences, notwithstanding such was
hia occupation, had nevertheless some intervals of sound
sense. He clashed his staff loudly, and Leopold, as if by
habit, turned his licad towards his man of counsel.

" The eagle is king among the fowls of the nir," said
the spntch-sprecher, " as is the lion among the beasts of
the field — each has his dominion, separated as wide as
England and Germany — do thou, noble eagle, no dis-
honour to the princely lion, but let your banners remain
floating in peace side by side."

Leopold withdrew his hand from the banner-spear, and
looked round for Conrade of Montserrat, but he saw him

196

WAVEHLEr KOTELS.

not ; for tlio IMarquij, so soon as he saw the mischief
afoot, had withdrawn himself from the crowd, taiing care
in the first place, to express before sevei-al neutral per-
sons his regret, that the Archduke should have chosea
the hours after dinner to avenge any wrong of which he
might think he had a right to complain. Not seeing his
guest, 10 whom he wished more particularly to have
addressed himself, the Archduke said aloud, that, having
no wish to breed dissension in. the army of the Cross, he
did but vindicate his own privileges and right to stand
upon an equality with the King of England, without
desiring, as he might have done, to advance his banner,
which he derived from Emperors, his progenitors, above
that of a mere descendant of the Counts of Anjou ; and,
in the meantime, he commanded a cask of wine to be
brought hitiier and pierced, for regaling the bystanders,
who, with tuck of drum and sound of music, quaffed
many a carouse round the Austrian standard.

This disorderly scene was not acted without a degree
of noise, which alarmed the whole camp.

The critical hour had arrived, at which the physician,
according to the rules of his art, had predicted that his
royal patient might be awakened with safety, and the
sponge had been applied for that purpose ; and the leech
had not made many observations ere he assured the
Baron of Gilsland that the fever had entirely left his
sovereign, and that such was the happy strength of his
constitution, it would not be even necessary, as in most
cases, to give a second dose of the powerful medicine.
Richard himself seemed to be of the same opinion, for,
sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he demanded of Do
Vaux what present sum of money was in the royal

THE TALIS

juld Qot exactly inform

197

of the

^ The bai-on i
amount.

"It madei-s nol," said Richard j "be it greater or
Bmaller, bestow it all on this learned leeeh, who hath, I
trust, giren me back again to the service of the Crii'jidB.
If it be less than a thousand byzanta, let him have jewels
lo make it up."

"I sell not the wisdotn with which Allah has endowed
me," answered the Arabian physician ; " and be it known
to you, great Prince, that the divine medicine, of which
yon have partaken, would lose its effects in my unworthy
hands, did I exchange ita virtues either for gold or
diamonds."

"The physician refuseth a gratuity!" said De Vaux
to himself. " This is more extraordinary than his being
an hundred years old."

"Thomas de Vaux," said Riehard, "tliou knoweat no
courage but what belongs to t!:e sword, no bounty and
virtue but what are used in chivalry — I tell thee that thb
Moor, in his independence, might set an example to them
who account themselves the flower of knighthood."

"It is reward enough for me," said the Moor, folding
his arms on his bosom, and maintaining an attitude at
once respectful and dignified, " that so great a King aa
the Melech Ric* should thus speak of his servant. — But
now, let me pray you again to compose yourself on your
couch ; for though I think there needs no farther repeti-
tion of (he divine draught, yet injury might ensue from
any too early exertion, ere your strength be entirely
restored."

" I must obey thee, Hakim," said the King ; " yet, be-
lieve rae, my bosom feels so free from the wasting fire,
• Biolmrd was Itraa called by tho Eastom nation*.

198

TTATEELET NOVELS.

wtucb for so inany days hath scorched it, that I care not
how soon I expose it to a brave maii'a lance.^But hark I
what mean these shouts, and that distant music, in the
camp? Go, Thomas de Vaus, and raake inquiry."

" It is the Archduke Leopold," said De Vaux, return-
ing after a minute's absence, " who makes with his pot-
companions some procession through the camp."

" The drunken fool ! " exclaimed King BicSiard, " can
he not keep hia brulal inebriety within the veil of his
pavilion, that he must needs show his shame to ail Chris-
tendom?— What say you, Sir Marquis?" he added, ad-
dressing himself to Conrade of Montserrat, who at that
I moment entered the tent,

I " Thus much, honoured Prince," answered the Mar-

I quis, " that I delight to see your Majesty so well, and so

I far recovered ; and that is a long speech for any one to

make who has partaken of the Duke of Aastria's hospi-
tality."

" "Wliat ! yon have been dining with the Tentonic wine-
ekin," said the monarch ; " and what frolic has he found
out to cause all this disturbance ? Truly, Sir Conrade, I
have still held you so good a reveller, that I wonder at
your quitting the game."

De Vaux, who had got a little behind the King, now

S exerted himself, by look and sign, to make the Marquis

understand that he should say nothing to Richard of what

L was passing without. But Conrade understood not, or

I heeded not, the prohibition.

I " What the Archduke does," he said, " is of little con-

I sequence to any one, least of all to himself, since he prob-

I ably knows not what he is acting — yet, to say truth, it is

I a gambol I should not like to shai'e in, since he is pulling

L down the banner of England from Saint George's Mount

TBK TAUBHAK. 199

ia ihe centre of tbe camp yonder, and displaying bis own

"What say'st thou?" said the King, in a lone which
might have waked the dead.

" Nay," said the Marquis, " let it not chafu your Uigh-
nesa, that a fool should act according to his folly "

" Spea,fc not to me," said Richard, springing from hifl
coQch, and casting on his clothes with a dispatch which
seemed marvellous — " speak not to me, Lord Murquia ! —
De Multon, I command thee apeak not a word to me — he
that hreathes but a ayU>ible,i9 no friend to Richard Flan-
tagenet. — Hakim, be silent, I charge thee I "

All thid while the King was hastily clothing himself,
and, with the lost word, snatched his sword from the pillar
of the tent, and without any other weapon, or calling any
attendance, he rushed out of the tent. Conrade holding
up his hands, as if in astonishment, seemed willing to
enter into conversation with De Vaux, but Sir Thomas
pushed rudely past him, and calling to one of the royal
equerries, said hastily, — " Fly to Lord Salisbury's quar-
ters, and let him get bis men together, and follow me in-
atantly to Saint Gleorge'a Mount. Tell him the King's
fever has lefl l^s blood, and settled in his brain."

Imperfectly heard, and still more imperfeclly compre-
hended, by the startled attendant whom De Vaux ad-
dressed thua hastily, the equerry and his fellow-scrvanta
of the royal chamber rushed hastily into the tents of the
neighbouring nobility, and quickly spread an alarm, as
general as the cause seemed vague, through the whole
British forces. The English soldiers, waked in alarm
fi-ora that noon-day rest which the beat of the climate had
taught them to enjoy as a luxury, hastily asked each
other the cause of the tumult, and, without waiting aa

200 TTATEBLBT ROTKLS.

answer, sujjplietl, by Ihe force of their own fancy, Iha
want of information. Some said the Saracens were in
the camp, some that the King's life was attempted, some
that he had died of the fever the preceding night, many
that he woa assassinated by the Duke of Aui^tria. Tlie
nobles and ofiicers, at an equal loss with the commoa men
to ascertain the real cause of the disorder, laboured only
to get their followers under arms and under authority,
lest their rashness should occasion some great misfortune
to the Crusading army. T!ie English trumpets sounded
loud, shrill, and continuously. The alarm-cry of " Bows
and bills — bows and bills ! " was heard from quarter to
quarter, again and again shouted, and again and again
answered by the presence of the ready warriors, and
their national invocation, " Saint George for Merry Eng-
land ! "

The alarm went through the nearest quarter of the
camp, and men of all the various nations assembled,
where, perhaps, every people in Cliristcndora had their
representatives, flew to arms, and drew together under
circumstances of general confusion, of which they knew
neither (he cause nor the object. It waa, however, lucky,
amid a scene so threatening, that the Earl of Salisbury,
while he hurried after De Vaus's summons, with a few
only of the readiest English men-at-arms, directed the
rest of the English host to he drawn up and kept under
arms, to advance to Richard's succour if necessity should
require, hut in fit array, and under due command, and not
with the tumultuary haste which their own alarm, and
zeal for the King's safely, might have dictated.

In the meanwhile, without regarding for one instant
the shouts, the cries, the tumult, which began to thicken
ftround him, lUchard, with his dress in the last disorder.

THK TALISXAV. SOI

sod lijs sboHthed blade under his arm, pursued his way
with the utmost speed, followed only by De Vaux, and
one or two household serranta, to Saint George's Mount.

He outsped even the alann which his iropetuosily only
had excited, and passed the quarter of hb own gallant
troops of Normandy, Poitou, Gascony, and Anjoti, before
the disturbance had reached them, although the noise ac-
companying the German revel had induced many of tlie
eoldiery to get on foot to listen. The handful of Scots
were also quartered in the vicinity, nor had they been
disturbed by the uproar. But the King's person, and hia
haste, were both remarked by the Knight of the Leopard,
who, aware that danger must be afoot, and hastening to
share in i(, snatched hia shield and sword, and united him-
self to De Vaux, who with some difficulty kept with his
impatient and fiery master. De Vans answered a look
of curiosity, which the Scottish knight directed towards
him, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, and they con-
tinued, side by aide, to pureue Richard's steps.

The King was soon at the foot of Saint George's
Mount, the sides as well as platform of which were now
surrounded and crowded, partly by those belonging to the
Duke of Austria's retinue, who were celebrating, with
shouts of jubilee, the act which they considered as an
assertion of national honour; partly by bystanders of
different nations, whom dislike to the English, or mere
curiosity, had assembled togetlier, to witness the end of
these extraordinary proceedings. Through this disorderly
troop Richard burst his way, like a goodly ship under fiill
sail, which cleaves her forcible passage through the roll-
ing billows, and heeds not that they unite afler her pas*
Gage, and roar upon her stern.

The summit of the eminence was a small level spatx.

202

on which were pitched Ihe rival bannprs, surroandcd still
by the Archduke's friends and retinue. In the midst of
the circle was Leopold himself, still contemplnting with
Belf-satisfaction the deed he had done, and HtiJI listening
to the shouts of applause which his partisaaa bestowed
with DO sparing breath. WhUe he was in this slate of
Belf'gralulation, Richard burst into the circle, attended,
indeed, only by two men, but in his own headlong ener-
^es .10 irresistible host.

" Who has dared," he said, laying his hands upon the
Austrian standard, and speaking in a voice like the sound
which precedes an earthquake ; " who has dared to place
this paltry rag beside the banner of England?"

The Archduke wanted not personal courage, and it
was im[)Ossible fae could hear this question without reply.
Yet, so much was he troubled and surprised by the un-
expected arrival of Richard, and affected by the general
awe inspired by his ardent and unyielding character, that
the demand was twice repealed, in a tone which seemed
to challenge hea.ven and earth, ere the Archduke replied
with Buch firmness as he could command, " It was I,
Leopold of Austria."

"Then shall Leopold of Austria," replied Richard,
" presently see the rate at which his baDaer and his pre-
tensions are held by Richard of England."

So saying, he pulled up the standard-spear, aplintei'ed
it to pieces, threw the banner itself on the gronnd, and
placed his foot upon it.

" Thus," said he, " I trample on the banner of Austria
■ — la there a knight among your Teutonic chivalry, dare
impeach my deed ? "

There was a momentary silence; but there are no
braver men than the Germans.

TttB TALISMAir. 20a

"I," and "I," anH "I," was heard from several knighfa
of liie Duke's followers; and he himself added hia voice
to those which accepted the King of England's do-

" Why do we dally thus?" said (he Earl Wallenrode,
a gigantic warrior from the frontiers of Hungary ;
"Brethren, and noble gRntleraen, this man's foot ia on
the honour of your country — Let os rescue it from viola-
tion, and down with (he pride of England ! "

So Baying, he drew his sword, and fitruck at the King
a blow which might have proved fatal, had not the Scot
intercepted and caught it upon hia shield.
■ " I have sworn," said King Richard — and hia voice
waa heard above all the tumult, which now waxed wild
and loud — " never to strike one whose shoulder bears the
cross ; therefore live, "Wallenrode— but live to remember
Eichard of England."

As he ppoke, he grasped the tall Hungarian round the
waist, and, unmatched in wrestling, as in other military
exercise?, hurled him backwards with aueh violence that
the mass flew as if discharged from a military engine, not
only through the ring of spectators who witnessed the
extraordinary scene, but over the edge of the mount
itself, down the steep side of which Wallenrode rolled
headlong, until, pitching at length upon his shoulder, he
dislocated (he bonp, and lay like one dead. This almost
supernatural display of strength did not encourage either
(he Duke or any of his followers, to renew a personal
conte9( w inau'fpiciously commenced. Those who stood
farthest back did, indeed, clash their swords, and cry out,
"Cut the island mastiff to pieces !" but those who were
nearer, veiled, perhaps, their personal fears under an
affected regard for order, and cried, for the most part^

i0i WA.VERLEX MOrSLS.

" Peace 1 peace I the peace of the Cross — the peace of
Holy Church, and our Father the Pope I "

These various ciiea of the asi^ailants, contradiciang each
other, showed their irresolution ; while Richard, his foot
Blill on the archdueal banner, glared round him, wiA an
eye thai seemed to seek an enemy, and from- which the
angry nobles shrunk appalled, as from the threatened
grasp of a lion. De Vaux and the Knight of the Leopard
kept their placea beside him ; and though the sworda
which they held were still sheathecl, it waa plain that they
were prompt to protect Eichard's person to the very lasl,
and their size and remarkable strength plainly showed
the defence would be a desperate one.

Salisbury and his attendants were also now drawing
near, with bills and partisans brandished, and bows
already bended.

At this moment, King PhiUp of France, attended by
one or two of hia nobles, came on the platfoitn to inquire
the cause of the dbturbance, and made gestures of sur-
prise at finding the King of England raised from his sick-
bed, and confronting their common ally the Duke of
Austria, in such a menacing and insulting posture.
Richard himself blushed at being discovered by Fhihp,
whose sagacity he respected aa much as he disliked his
person, in an attitude neither becoming hia character as a
monarch, nor aa a Crusader; and it was observed that he
withdrew his foot, as if accidentally, from the dishonoured
banner, and exchanged his look of violent emotion for
one of affected composure and indifference. Leopold
also struggled to attain some degree of calmness, morti-
fied as he was by having been seen by Philip in the act
of passively submitting to the insulta of the fiery IDng
of England.

TUB TA1.IB1UN. 20ft

r many of those royal qualities for which
he was termed by hia subjecla the August, Philip might
be termed the Uiysses, as Eicliard was indisputably the
Achilles, of the Crusade. The King of Frauce was
sagacious, wise, deliberate in council, steady and calm in
action, seeing clearly, and steadily pursuing, the measures
most for the interest of his kingdom — dignified and royal
in his deportment, brave in person, but a politician rather
than a warrior. The Crusade would have been no choice
of his own, but the spirit was contagious, and the expedi-
tion was enforced upon hiiD by the church, and by the
unanimous wish of hi^i nobility. In any other situation,
or in a milder age, his character might have stood higher
than that of the adventurous Cteur de Lion. But in the
Crusade, iiself an undertaking wholly irrational, sound
reason was the quality, of all others, least estimated, and
the chivalrie valour which both the age and the enter-
prise demanded, was considered as debased, if mingled
with the least touch of discretion. So that the merit of
Philip, compared with that of his haughty rival, showed
like the clear but minute flame of a lamp, placed near
the glare of a huge blazing torch, which, not possessing
half the utility, makes ten times more impression on the
eye. Philip felt his inferiority in public opinion, with
the pain natural to a high-spirited prince ; and it cannot
be wondered at if he took such opportunities as offered,
for placing bis own character in more advantageous con-
trast with that of hia rival. The present seemed one of
those occasions, in which prudence and cahnneas might
reasonably expect to triamph over obstinacy and im-
petuous violence.

" What means this unseemly broil betwixt the swom
brethren of the Cross — the royal Majesty of England

206 WATEEtBT N-OVELS,

nnd the princely Duke Leopold? How is it possiUa
that Ihose who are the chiefs and pillars of this holy ex-
pedition "

" A truce with thy remonstrance, France," said Richard,
enraged inwardly at finding himself placed on a sort of
equality with Leopold, yet not knowing how to resent it,
— "this duke, or prince, or pillar, if you will, hath been
insolent, and I haye chastised him — thut ia all. Here ia
a coil, forsooth, because of spurning a hound ! "

' " Majesty of France," said the Duke, " I appeal 1o yon
and every sovereign prince against ihc foul indignity
which I have sustained. This King of England hath
pulled down my banner — torn and trampled on it."

" Because he had the audacity to plant it beside mine,"
said Richard.

"My rank aa thine eqaal entitled me," replied the
Duke, emboldened by the presence of Philip.

"Assert such equality for thy person," said King
Richai-d, " and, by Saint George, I will treat thy person
aa I did thy broidered kerchief there, fit but for the
meanest use to which kerchief may be put."

"Nay, but patience, brother of England," said Philip,
"and I will presently show Austria that he is wrong in
this matter. — Do not think, noble Duke," he continued,
" that, in permitting the standard of England to occupy
the highest point in our camp, we, the independent sover-
eigns of the Crusade, acknowledge any inferiority to the
royal Richard. It were inconsistent to think so; since
even the oriilamme itself — the great banner of France, to
which the royal Richard himself, in respect of his French
possessions, is but a vassal — holds for the present an in-
ferior place to the Lions of England. But as sworn
brethren of the Cross, military pilgrims, who, laying aside

TBK TA.tTSXA.lf.

207

the pomp and priJo of this world, are hewing with our
ewords the way to the Holy Sepulchre, I myself, and the
other princes, haye renounoid to King Richard, from
respect (o his high renown and great feats of arma, that
precedence, which elsewhere, and upon other motives,
would not have been yielded. I am satisfied, that when
your royal grace of Aufltria shall have considered this,
you will express sorrow for having placed your banner
on this spot, and that the royal Majesty of England will
then give salisfaclion for the insult he has offered."

The spruch-ipreclier and the jester had bolh retired to
n safe distance when matter.s seemed coming to blows,
but returned when words, their own commodity, seemed
again about to become the order of the day.

The man of proverbs was so delighted with Philip's
politic speech, that he clashed his baton at tlie conclusion
by way of emphasis, and forgot the presence in which he
wa^, so far us to say aloud, that be himself had never
said a wiser thing in his life.

"It may be so," whispered Jonas Schwanker, "but we
shall be whipt if you speak so loud."

The Duke answered sullenly, that he would refer his
quarrel to the General Council of the Crusade— a motion
which Philip highly applauded, as qualified lo take away
a scandal most harmful to Christendom.

Richard, retaining the same careless attitude, listened
to Philip until his oratory seemed exhausted, and then
gaid aloud, " I am drowsy — this fever hangs about me
Blill. Brother of France, tliou art acquainted with my
humour, and that I have at all times but few words to
spare — know, therefore, at once, I will submit a malter
touching the honour of England neither to Prince, Pope,
nor Council. Here stands my banner — whatsoever

208 WAVERtEr KOVEta.

penuoB ahall be reared within three butts' length of it
— ay, were it the oriflamme, of which you were, I think,
but now speaking, shall be treated as that dishonoured
rag; nor will I yield other aatisfaction than that which
these poor limba can render in the lists to any bold
challenge — ay, were it against five championa instead
of one."

" Now," said the jester, whispering his companioa,
"that is as complete a piece of folly, as if I myself had
said it — but yet, I think, there may be in this matter a
greater fool than Richard yet."

"And who may that be ? " asked the man of wisdom.

" Philip," said the jester, " or our own Royal Duke,
should either accept the challenge— But oh, most sage
spruck-sprechcT, what excellent kings would thou and I
have mnde, since those on whose heads these crowns have
fallen, can play the proverb-monger and the fool as com-
pletely as ourselves ! "

While these worlhies plied their offices apart, Philip
answered calmly to the almost injurious defiance of Rich-
ard,— " I came not hither to awaken fresh quarrels, con-
trary to the oath we have sworn, and the holy cause in
which we have engaged. I part from my brother of
England as brother should part, and the only strife be-
tween the Lions of England and the Lilies of France
shall be, which shall be carried deepest into the ranks of
the infidels."

" It is a bargain, my royal brother," said Richard,
stretching out his hand with all the frankness which be-
longed to his rash but generous disposition ; " and soon
may we have the opportunity to try this gallant and
fraternal wager ! "

" Let this noble Duke also partake in the friendship

THB TAI.iq|f AJT. 209

of tilis happy moment," said Philip; and tlie Duke ap-
proaclied half-sullerily, half-niUing to eater into Boros
accommodation,

"I think not of foots, nor of (heir folly," eaid Richard,
carelessly ; and the Archduke, turning his back on him,
withdrew from the ground.

Richard looked atler him as he retii'cd.

" There is a sort of glow-worm courage," he said,
" that shows only hy night. I must not leave this banner
unguarded in darkness — bj daylight the look of the Lions
will alone defend iL Here, Thomas of Gilsland, I give
ihee the charge of the standard — watch over the honour
of England."

" Her safety is yet more dear to me," said De Vaux,
"and the life of Richard is the safety of England — I must
have your Highness hack to your tent, and that without
further larriance."

" Thou art a rough and peremptory nurse, De Vaux,"
said the King, smiling ; and then added, addressing Sir
Keunelh, " Valiant Scot, I owe thee & boon, and I will
pay it richly. There stands the banner of England I
Watch it as a novice does his armour on the night before
he is dubbed — Stir not from it tJiree spears' length, and
defend it with thy body against injury or insult — Sound
thy bugle, if thou art assailed by more than three at once.
Dost thou undertake the charge ? "

"WilUngly," said Kenneth; "and will discharge it
upon penalty of my head. I will but arm me, arid return
hither instantly."

The Kings of France and England then took formal
leave of each other, hiding, under an appearance of cour-
tesy, the grounds of complaint which either had against
the other, — Richard against Philip, for what he deemed

■WAVE<f:Eir K0V1X3.

interferGQce betwixt him and Austria, and
Philip against Cteur de Lion, for the disrespectfal manner
in which bis mediation had been received. Those whom
this disturbance bad assembled, now drew off in different
directions, leaving the contested mount in the same soli-
tude which had subsisted till interrupted bj tlie Austrian
bravado. Men judged of the events of the day according
to their partialities ; and while the English charged the
Austrian with having afforded the first ground of quarrel,
those of other nations concurred in casting ihe greatfer
blame upon the insular haugbtineBS and assuming char-
acter of Richard.

" Thou seest," said the Marquis of Montserrat to the
Grand Master of the Templare, " that subtle courses ara
more effective than violence. I have unloosed the bonds
which held together this bunch of sceptres and lances —
thou wilt see Ihera shortly fall asunder."

" I would have called thy plan a good one," said the
Templar, " had there been but one man of courage among
yonder cold-blooded Austriaoa, to sever the bonds of which
you speak, with hia eword. A knot that is unloosed may
again be fastened, but not so the cord which has been
cut to pieces."

CHAPTER Xn.

In the days of chiTalry, a dangerous post, or a perilous
adventure, was a reward frequently assigned to military
bravery as a compensation for its former trials — juat as,
in ascending a precipice, the Bunnounting one crag only
lifts the climber to points yet more dangerous.

It was midnight, and the moon rode clear and high in
heaven, when Kenneth of Scotland stood upon his watch
on Saint George's Mount, beside the banner of England,
a solitary sentinel, to protect the emblem of that nation
against the insults which might be meditated among the
thousands whom Richard's pride had made his enemies.
High thoughts rolled, one after each other, upon the mind
of the warrior. It seemed to him as if he had gained
Borne fafour in the eyes of the chivalrous monarch, who
till now had not seemed to distinguish him among the
crowds of brave men whom his renown had assembled
under his banner, and Sir Kenneth little recked that the
display of royal regard consisted in placing liira upon a
post so perilous. The devotion of his ambitious and
high-placed affection, inflamed his military enthusiasm.
Hopeless as that attachment was, in almost any con-
ceivable circumstances, those which had lately occurred
had, in some degree, diminished the distance between

tl2 WATEKLBT ITOTELH.

Edilh and liimaelf. He upon whom Riutiavd liad con-
lerreil Ihe distinction of guai'ding his hanner, was no
longer an adventurer of slight note, but placed within the
regard of a princess, although be waa aa far as ever from
her level. An unknown and ohacure fate could not now
be his. If he waa surprised and slain on the post which
had been assigned him, his death— and he resolved it
should be glorious — must deserve the praises, as well aa
call down the vengeance, of Cccur de Lion, and be fol-
lowed by the regrets, and even the tears, of the high-born
beauties of the English Court. He had now no longer
i-eason to fear that he should die aa a fool dieth.

Sir Kenneth had full leisure to enjoj these and similar
high-souled thoughts, fostered by that wild spirit of chiv-
alry, wiiich, amid ita most extravagant and fantastic
flights, was still pure from all selfish alloy — generous,
devoted, and perhaps only thus far cenaurahle, that it
proposed objects and courses of action inconsistent with
the fmilties and imperfections of man. All nature
around Lim slept in calm moonshine, or in deep shadow.
The long rows of tents and pavilions, glimmering or
darkening as ihey lay in the moonlight or in tlie shade,
were still and silent as the streets of a deserted city.
Beside the banner-staff lay the large stag-liound already
mentioned, the sole companion of Kenuetli's watch, on
whose vigilance he trusled for early warning of the ap-
proach of any hostile footstep. The noble auimal seemed
to understand the purpose of their watch, for he looked
from time to time at the rich folds of the heavy pennon,
and, when the cry of the sentinels came from tlie distant
lines and defences of the camp, he answered them with
one deep and reiterated bark, as if to atfirm that be too

B vigilant in his duty. From time to time, also, he

THE TALIBUAX. 213

lowered hia lofty head, and wagged his tail, as his master
passed and i-epassed him in the short turns which he took
upon his post; or, when the knight stood silent and ah-
stracted, leaning on hh lance, and looking up towards
Heaven, his failhfui Htteadant ventured Bometimes, in the
phrase of romance, " to disturb liis thoughts," and awnken
him from his reverie, by thrusting his large rough snout
into the knight's gauntleled hand, to solicit a transitory

Thus passed two Lours of the knight's watch without
any thing remarkable occurring. At length, and upon a
sadden, the gallant stag-hound bayed furiously, and seemed
about to dash forward where the shadow lay tbe darkest,
yet waited, aa if in the slips, till he should know tbe
pleasure of his master.

"Who goes there?" said Sir Kenneth, aware that
tLere was something creeping forward on the shadowy
Bide of the mount.

" In the name of Merlin and Maugis," answered a
hoarse disagreeable voice, " tie up your four-fooled demon
there, or I come not at you."

" And who art Ibou, that would approach my post ? "
said Sir Kenneth, bending his eyes as keenly as he could
on some object which he could just observe at the bottom
of the ascent, without being able to distmguish its form.
" Beware — I am here for death and life."

" Take up thy long-fanged Sathanaa," said the voice,
"or I will conjure him with a bolt from my arblast."

At the same time was heard the sound of a spring or
check, as when a crossbow is bent.

" Unbend thy arblasl, and come into the moonlight,"
said the Scot, " or, by Saint Andrew, I will pin thee to
the earth, be what or whom thou wilt ! "

214 WATEELfiT NOTEIS.

As he spoke, lie poised his long lance by the middle,
and, fixing his eye upon the object which seemed to move,
he hrandiihed the weapon, as if meditating to cast it from
his hand — a use of the weapon sometimes, though rarely,
resorted to, when a miasile was necessary. But Sir Ken-
neth was ashamed of his purpose, and grounded hia
weapon, when there stepped from the shadow into the
moonlight, like an actor entering upon the stage, a,
stunted decrepit creature, whom, hy his fantastic dresa
and deformity, he recognized, even at some distance, for
the male of the two dwarfs whom he had seen in the
chapel at Engaddi. Recolleciing, at the same moment,
the other, and far different, vieiona of that extraordinary
night, he gave his dog a iignal, which he instantly under-
Blood, and, returning to the standard, laid himself down
beside it with a stifled growl

The little distorted miniatuie of humanity, assured of
his safety from aa eneaiy so formidable, came panting up
the ascent, which the shortness of his legs rendered labori-
ous, and, when he arrived on the platform at the top,
shifted to his lefl hand the little crossbow^ which was just
Hueh a toy as children at that period were permitted to
shoot small birds with, and, assuming an attitude of great
dignity, gracefully exteuded his right hand to Sir Ken-
neth, in an attitude as if he expected he would salute it.
But such a result not following, he demanded in a sharp
and angry tone of voice, " Soldier, wherefore renderest
thou not to Nectabanua (he homage due lo his dignity? —
Or, is it possible that thou canst have forgotten him ?"

" Great Neclabanus," answered the knight, willing lo
Boothe the creature's humonr, " that were difficult for any
one who has ever looked upon thee. Pardon me, how-
ever, that being a soldier upon my post, with my lance ii

L

THR TAI.ISJIAN. 215

my liflnd, I may not give to one of ihy puissance llie ad-
vanlage of coming within my guard, or of maslering my
weapon. Suffice it, that I reverence thy dignity, and
Biibniit myneir to thee as humbly ua a man-at'arms in my
place may."

" It shall suffice," siiid Nectabanus, " ea that you pres-
ently attend mo to the presence of those who have sent
me hither to snmroon yoii."

" Great sir," replied the knight, " neither in this can I
gralify thee, for my orders are to abide by thia banner till
daybreak — so I pray you to hold me excused in that
matter also."

So aap-ing, he resumed hia walk upon the platform;
■ but the dwarf did not suffer him ao eaaUy to escape from
his importunity.

" Look you," he said, placing himself before Sir Ken-
neth, ao as to interrupt his way, "either obey me, Sir
Knight, as in duty bound, or I will lay the ronmiand
upon thee, in the name of one whose beauty could call
down the genii from their sphere, and whose grandeur
could command the immortal race when they liad de-
scended."

A wild and improbable conjecture arose in the knight's
mind, but be repelled it. It was impossible, he thought,
that the lady of his love should have sent him such a mes-
sage by such a messenger — yet his voice trembled as he
said, '■ Go to, Nectabanus. Tell me at once, and aa a
true man, whether this sublime lady of whom thou speak-
est, be other than the houri, with whose i
beheld thee sweeping the chapel at Eiigaddi ? "

" How I presumptuous knigbt," replied the dwarf,
" think'st Ihoii Ihe mistress of our own royal affections,
the sharer of our greatness, and the partner of o

21 G WAVEBLET NOVEtS.

liness, would demean herself by laying charge on sneh a
vassal aa thou ? No, highly as thou art honoured, thou
hast not yet deserved the notice of Queen Guinever, the
lovely bride of Arlliur, from whose high neat even princes
seem but pigmica. But look thou here, and ng thou know-
est or disowneal this token, so obey or refuse her com-
mands, who hath deigned to impose them on thee."

So saying, he placed in the knight's hands a ruby ring,
which, even in the moonlight, he had no difiieulty to
recognize as that which usually graced the finger of the
high-born lady to whose service he had devoted himself,
Could lie have doubted the truth of the token, he would
have been convinced by (ho araall knot of carnation-
coloured ribbon, which was fastened to the ring. This
was his lady's favourife colour, and more than once had
he himself, assuming it for (bat of his own liveries, caused
the carnation to (riumph oyer all other hues in the hsts
and in the battle.

Sir Kenneth n'aa struck nearly mute, hy seeing such a
token in such hands.

" In the name of all that is sacred, from whom didst
Ihou receive this witness?" said the knight; "bring, if thou.
canst, thy wavering understanding to a right settlement
for a minute or two, and tell me the person by whom
thou art sent, and the real pui-pose of thy message — and
talte heed what thou say'st, for this is no subject for
buffoonery."

" Fond and foohsh knight," said the dwarf, " wouldst
thou know more of this matter, than that thou art hon-
oured with commands from a princess, delivered to thee
by a king? — Wo h^t not to parley with Ihee farther than
la command thee, in the name, and by the power of that
ring, to follow us to her who is the owner of the ring.

I

217

Every minute Ihat thou tarriest is a crime against thy
■lle^ancc,"

" Good Nectabanus — bethink thyself," said the knight,
— " Can my lady know where and upon what duty 1 am
this night engaged ? — Is she aware tliat my life — Pshaw,
why should I speak of life — but that my honour depends
on my gua,rding this banner till daybreak — and can it be
her wish that I should leave it even to pay homage to
her ? — It is impossible — the princess is pleased to be
merrj' with her servant, in sending him such a message ;
and I must think'so the rather tliat she hath chosen such

" Oh, keep your belief," said Nectabanus, turning round
as if to leave the platform j " it is little to me wlieiher
you be traitor or true man to this royal lady — so fare
thee well."

" Stay, stay — I entreat you stay," said Sir Kenneth j
" answer me hut one question — Is the lady who sent thee
near to this place ? "

"What signifies it?" said the dwarf; " ought fidelity
to reckon furlongs, or miles, or leagues — like the poor
courier, who is paid for his labour by the dislante which
he traverses ? Nevertheless, thou soul of suspiiiion, I tell
thee, the fair owner of the ring, now sent to so unwortljy
a vassal, in whom tiiere is neither truth nor courage, is
not more distant from this place, than this arblast can
send a holt."

The knight gazed again
that there was no possible falsehood
me," he said to the dwarf, " is ray p
any length of time ?"

" Time I" answered Nectabanus, in his flighty
* what call you time ? I see it not — I feel it not-

the ring, as if to ascertain
the token. — " Tell
ience required for

WATEKLEr NOTBLa,

but a shadowy name — a succession of brealbii
nred forth by nigiit by the clank of a bell, by day by a
Bhadow crosaiiig along a dial-3tone. Know'^t ibou not a
true knight's time should only be reckoned hy the deeds
that he perfbrma in behalf of God and hi^ lady ? "

" The words of truth, though in the mouth of folly,"
said the knighL " And doth my lady really summoa me
lo some deed of action, in her name and for her sake ? —
and may it not be postponed for even the few hours till
daybreak ? "

" She requires thy presence instantly," said the dwarf,
" and without the loss of so much time as would be lold
by ten grains of the sand-glass — Hearken, thou cold-
blooded and suspicious knight, these are her very words
■ — Tell him, that the hand which dropped rosea can
besiow laurels."

This allusion to their meeting in the chapel of Gngaddi,
Bent a thousand recollections through Sir Kenneth's brain,
and convinced him that the message delivered by the
dwarf was genuine. The rose-buds, withered as they
were, were still treaaui-ed under his cuirass, and nearest
to his heart. He paused, and could not resolve to forego
an opportunity— the only one which might ever offer, to
gain grace in her eyes, whom he bad installed as m>v-
ereign of his aSbctions. The dwarf, in the meantime,
augmented his confusion by insisting either that he must
return the ring, or inslautly attend him.

" Hold, hold, yet a moment hold," said the knight, and

proceeded to mutter to himself — " Am I either the aub-

I ject or slave of King Richard, more than as a free knight

B^orn to the service of the Crusade ? And whom have

E come hither to honour with lance and sword ? Our

■Itoly cause and my transcendent lady!"

219

" Tlie ring, the ring ! " exclaimed ihe dwarf, impa-
tientlj'; "false and Bloihfiil knighl, reiurn the ring, wliich
thou art unworthy to touch or to look upon."

" A moroenl, a moment, good Nuctabanus," said Sir
Kenneth ; " disturb not my thoughts. — What if the
Saracens were just now to attack our lines ? Should I
slay here like a sworn vassal of England, watching that
her kingi'a pride eufiered no humiliation ; or should I
speed to the breach, and fight for the Cross ? — To the
breach, assuredly ; and next to Ihe cause of Giod, come
the commands of my liege lady. — And yot, Coeur de
Lion's behest — my own promise I — Nectabanua, I conjure
thee once more to eay, are yon to conduct me far from

" But to yonder pavilion ; and, since you must needs
know," repUed Nectabanus, " the moon ia glimmering on
the gilded ball which crowns its roo^ and which is worth
a king's ransogi."

" I can return in an instant," said the knight, shutting
his eyes desperately lo all farther consequences. " I can
hear from thence the bay of my dog, if any one ap-
proaches the standard — I will throw myself at my lady's
feet, and pray her leave to return to conclude my watch.
— Here, Roawal," (calling his hound, and throwing down
hia mantle by the side of the standard-spear,) " wHtch
thou here, and let no one approach,"

The majestic dog looked in his master's face, as if to
be sure that he understood his charge, then sat down
beside the mantle, with ears erect and head raised, tike a
sentinel, understanding perfectly the purpose for which
he was stationed there.

" Come now, good Nectabanus," said the knight, " let
Ds hasten to obey the commands thou hast broughL"

220 WATEBtET NOVELS.

" Haste he that will," said the dwarf, sullenly ; " thou
hast not been in haste to obey my summons, nor can I
walk fast enough to follow your long strides — you do not
walk like a man, but hound tike an ostrich in the desert."

There were but two ways of cooquering the ohstinacy
of NectabaoUB, who, as he spoke, diminished hia walk
into a snail pace. For bribes Sir Kenneth had no means
' — for soothing no time ; so in his impatience he snatched
the dwarf up from the ground, and bearing him along,
notwithstanding hid entreaties and his fear, reached nearly
to the pavilion pointed out as that of the Queen. In
approaching it, however, the Scot observed there was a
small guard of soldiers sitling on the ground, who had
been concealed from him by the intervening tents. Won-
dering that the clash of hia own armour had not yet
attracted their attention, and supposing tliat his motions
might, on the present occasion, require to he conducted
with secrecy, he placed the little [lanling guide upon the
ground to recover his breath, and point out what was
next to be done. Nectahanus was both frightened and
angry ; but he had ielt himself as completely in the
power of the robust knight, as an owl in the claws of an
eagle, and therefore eared not to provoke him to any
farther display of his strength.

He made no complaints, therefore, of the usage he had
received, but turning amongst the labyrinth of tents, he
led the knight in silence to the opposite side of the pavil-
ion, which thus screened them from tlie observation of
the warders, who seemed either too negligent or too
sleepy to discharge their duty with much accuracy.
Arrived there the dwarf raised (he under part of iha
canvas from the ground, and made signs to Sir Kenneth
that be should introduce himself to the inside of the tent,

THE TALISU4N. 221

by crcoping under it. The knight hositaterl — there
seemed an indecorum in thus privately intrcKluciiig him-
Belf into a pavilion, pitched, doubtless, for the nccommo-
dation of noble ladies, but he recalled to remembrance
the assured tokens which the dwarf had exhibited, and
concluded that it was not for him to dispute his lady's
pleasure.

He stoopt accordingly, crept beneath the canvas en-
closure of the tent, and heard the dwarf whisper from
without, — ** Remain there until I call thee."

WATBBLET NOVKLB.

CHAPTER TTTT-

Toa talk oT Galetj Hod iDnamnce '.

Thajpaclfld ne'er U> meet ugaJD; snd MiUica
Bat erer dnes been plajmale to light GiJetf ,

BsBlTOyit Uia flower or bntlerfly ha toja with,

Sm Kenmeth was left for some minutes alone, and in
darkness. Here was another interruption, which must
prolong his absence fmm hia post, and he began almost to
repent the facility with which he had been induced to
quit it. But to return without seeing the Lady Edith,
was now not to he thought of. He had committed a
breach of military discipline, and was determined at least
to prove the reality of the seductive expectations which
had (empted him to do so. Meanwhile, his siluatioa was
unpleasant There was no light to show him into what
sort of apartment he had been led — the Lady Edith was
in immediate attendance on the Queen of Eiigland — and
the discovery of his having introduced himself ihus fur-
lively into tie royal pavilion, might, were it discovered,
lead to much and dangerous suspicion. While he gave
way to these unpleasant reflections, and began almost to
wish that he could achieve his retreat unobserved, he

THE TALIIMAW.

heard n noise of female voices, laagting, wliispering and
speaking, in an adjoining apartmenl, from which, as the
sounds gave him reason to judge, he could only be
fleparated by a canvas partition. Latnpa were burning,
as he might perceive by the shadowy light which ex-
tended itself even to his side of the veil which divided
the lent, and Jie could see eliadea of several figures sitting
and moving in the adjoining apartmenL It cannot be
termed discourtesy in Sir Kenneth, that, situated as he
was, he overheard a conversation, in which he found him-
Belf deeply interested.

" Call her — call her, for Our Lady's sake," said the
voice of one of these laughing invisibles, " Nectabann?,
tbou shalt be made ambassador to Prester John's court,
to show them how wisely thou canst discbarge thee of &

The shrill tone of the dwarf was heard, yet so much
Bubdued, that Sir Kenneth could not understand what he
Baid, except that he spoke something of the means of
merriment given to the guard.

" But how shall we rid us of the spirit which Necta-
banas hath raised, my maidens?"

" Hear me, royal madam," said another voice ; " if the
Bsge and princely Nectabanus I>e not overjealoua of his
most transcendent bride and empress, let us send her to
get us rid of this insolent knight-errant, who can be so
easily persuaded that high-born damea may need the use
of his insolent and overweening valour."

" It were but justice, methinka," replied another, " that
the Princess Guinever should dismiss, by her courtesy,
him, whom her husband's wisdom baa been able to entice
hither."

Struck to the heart with shame and resentment at

224 WAVEBl^EY K0TEL8.

what ho Lad heard. Sir Kenneth ivas about to attempt hia
escape from the tent at all hazards, when what followed
arrested hia purpose

" Nay, truly," aaid the first speaker, " our cousin Edith
mast first loam how this vaunted wight hath conducted
himself, and we must reserve the power of giving her
ocular proof that he hath failed in his duty. It may be
a lesson will do good upon her; for, credit me, Calista, I
have sometimes thought she has let this northern ad-
venturer sit nearer her heart than prudence would sane-
One of the other voices was then heard to mnttet
something of the Lady Edith's prudence and wisdom.

" Prudence, wench ! " was the reply — " It ia mere
pride, and the desire to he thought more rigid than any
of us. Nay, I will not quit my advantage. You know
well, that when she ba^ us at fault, no one can, in a civil
way, lay your error before you more precisely than can
my Lady Edilh. — But here she comes."

A figure, as if entering the apartment, cast upon the
partition a shade, which glided along slowly until it mixed
with those which already clouded it. Despite of the bitter
disappointment which he had experienced — despite the
insult and injury with which it seemed he had been visited
by the malice, or, at best, by the idle humour of Queen
Berengaria, (for ho already concluded that she who spoke
loudest, and in a commanding tone, was the wife of Rich'
ard,) the knight felt something so soothing to bis feelings
in learning that Edith had been no partner to the fraud
practised on him, and so interesting to his curiosity in the
scene which was about to take place, that, instead of pros-
ecuting his more prudent purpose of an instant retreat, he
looked anxiously, on the contrary, for some rent or crcr-

THE TALISMAK. 225

ice, bj ratana of which he might be made eye a.s well ns
car-witnesa to what waa to go forward.

" Surely,'" eaiJ he to himself, " the Queen, who lialh
been pleased for an idle frolic to endanger my reputation,
and perhaps my life, cannot complain if I avail myself
of the chance which fortune seema willing to afford me,
to obtain knowledge of her farther intentiona."

It'seeraed, in the meanwhile, as if Edith were wailing
for the coramanda of the Queen, and as if the other were
reluctant to apeak, for fear of being unable to command
her laughter, and that of hf r companions ; for Sir Ken-
neth could only distinguish a sound as of suppressed titter-
ing snd merrimenl.

" Your Majesty," said Edith, at last, " seems in a merry
mood, though, methinka, the boar of night prompts a
sleepy one. I was well disposed bedward, when I had
your Majesty's commands to attend you." .

" I will not long delay you, cousin, from your repose,"
said the Queen ; " though I fear you will sleep less
soundly when I tell you your wager is lost."

" Nay, royal madam," said Edith, " this surely, ia dwell-
ing on a jest which has rather been worn out. I laid no
wager, however it was your Majesty's pleasure to suppose,
or to insist, that I did so "

"Nay, now, di spite our pilgrimage, Safan is strong
with you, my gentle couMn, and prompts thee to leasing.
Can you deny thit you gaged your ruby ring against my
golden bracelet, that yonder Knight of the Libbard, or
how call you him could not be seduced from his post ? "

" Tour Majesty is too great for me to gainsay you,"
i-eplied Edilh ; " hot these ladies can, if they will, bear
me witness, that it was your Highness who proposed such
a wager, and took the ring^from my finger, even while I

226

WAVEBLET NOTELB.

was declaring that I did not think it maidenly to gage anj
thing on such a subject."

" Nay, but, my Lady Ediili," Baid another voice, "you
must needs grant, nnder your favour, that you espresscd
yourself very confident of the valour of that same Kulghl
of the Leopard."

" And if r did, minion," .™d Edith, angrily, " is that a
good reason why thou shouldst put in thy word to fliitter
her Majesty's humour? I spoke of thnt knight but as all
men speak who have seen him in the field, and had no
more interest in defending tljan thou in delracl.ing from
him. In a camp, what can women speak of save Boldiei-s
and deeds of arms ? "

" The noble Lady Edith," said a third voice, " hath
never forgiven Calista and me, since we told your Majesty
that she dropped two rose-buds in the chapel."

" If your Mgjesty," said Edith, in a tone which Sir
Kenneth could judge to be that of respectful remon-
Btrance, " have no other commands for me than to hear
the gibes of your waiting-women, I must crave your per-
mission to withdraw."

" Silence, Florise," said the Queen, " and let not our
indulgence lead you to forget the difference betwixt your-
self and the kinswoman of England. — But you, my dear
cousin," she continued, resuming her tone of raillery,
" how can you, who are so good-natured, begrudge us poor
wretches a few minutes' laughing, when we have had so
many days devoted to weeping and gnashing of teeth ? "

" Great be your mirth, royal lady," said Edith ; " yet
would I be content not to amile for the rest of my life,
rather than " -

She stopped, apparently out of respect ; but Sir Ken'
neth could hear that she was in much agitation.

THE TALiaitAN,

227

" Forgive me," said Berengaria, a thoughtless but good-
humoured princess of the House of Navorre, — " but what
is the great offence after all ? A young knight has been
wiled hither — has stolen — or hafl been stolen — from hia
post, which no one will disturb in his absence, for the
aake of a fair lady; for, to do your champion justice,
Bweet one, the wisdom of Nectabanus could coujure him
hither in no name but yours."

" Gracious Heaven ! your Majesty does not say so ? "
eaid Edith, in a voice of alarm quite different from the
agitation she had previously evinced, — "you cannot say
BO, consistently with respect for your own honour and for
mine, your husband's kinswoman ! — Say you were jesting
. with me, my royal mistress, and forgive me that I could,
even for a moment, think it possible you could be in

" The Lady Edith," said the Queen, in a displeased
(one of voice, " regrets the ring we have won of her. —
We will restore the pledge to you, gentle cousin, only you
must not grudge us in turn a little triumph over the wis-
dom which has been so often spread over us as a banner

"A triumph!" exclaimed Edith, indignantly ; "a tri-
umph ! — the triumph will be with the inSdel, when he
hears that the Queen of England can make the reputa-
tion of her husband's kinswoman the subject of a light

" You are angry, fair cousin, at losing your favourite
ring," said the Queen — " Come, since you grudge to pay
your wager, we will renounce our right; it was your
name and that pledge brought him hither, and we care
Dot for the bait after the fish is caught."

" Madam," replied Edith, impatiently, " you know well

228 WAVERLET

that your Grace could not wish for any thing of mine bul
il bucoinea inslanlly yours. But I would give a busbol
of rubies ere ring or name of mine had been used to
bring a brave man into a faull, and perhaps to disgrace
and punishment."

" Oh, it is for the safety of onr Irue knight that we
fear ! " &aid the Qneeni " You rate onr power too low,
fair cousin, when yon ppeak of a life being lost for a frolio
of ours. Oh, Lady Editb, others have influence on the
iron breasts of warriors as well as you — the heart even
of a lion is made of flesh, not of stone ; and, believe me,
I have interest enough with Richard to save this knight,
in whose faith Lady Edith is so deeply concerned, from
the penalty of disobeying his royal commands."

" For the love of the blessed Cross, most royal lady,"
said Edith — and Sir Kenneth, with feehngs which it were
hard to unravel, heard her prostrate herself at the Queen's
feet, — " for the love of our blessed Lady, and of every
holy saint in the calendar, beware what you do ! Tou
know not King Richard — you have been but shortly
wedded to him — yonr breath might as well combat the
west wind when it is wildest, as your words persuade my
royal kinsman to pardon a military offence. Ohl for
God's sake, dismiss this gentleman, if indeed you have
lured him hither ! I could almost be content to rest with
the shame of having invited him, did I know that he was
returned again where his duty calls him ! "

" Arise, cousin, arise," said Queen Bereagaria, " and
be assured all will be better than you think. Rise, dear
Eidith; I am sorry I have played my foolery with a
knight in whom you take such deep interest — Nay, wring
not thy hands — I will believe thou carest not for him —
believe any thing rather than see thee look so wretchedly

TSE TA.LISUA1T.

229

miserable— I tell thee I will take the blame on myself
with King Richard in behalf of thy fair northern friend
■ — thine acquaiiitiince, I would say, since thou owu'st him
not as a friend. — Nay, look not bo re proacli fully — We
will send Nectabanus lu dismiss this Koight of the Stan-
dard to his post ; and we ourselves will grace him on
Bome future day, to make amends for his wild-goose chase.
He is, I wai'raot, but lying perdue in some neighbouring
tenL"

" By my crown of lilies, and my sceptre of a specially
good water-reed," said Neclabanus, " your Majesty is
mistaken — ^he is nearer at hand than you wot — he lieth
ensconced there behind that canvas partition,"

"And within hearing of each word we have saidl"
exclaimed the Queen, in her turn violently eurpriaed and
agitated—" Out, monster of folly and malignity I "

As she uttered these words, Nectabanua fled from the
pavilion with a yell of such a nature, as leaves it still
doubtful whether Berengaria had confined her rebuke to
woi'ds, or added some more emphatic expression of her
displeasure.

" What can now be done ? " said the Queen to Edith,
in a whisper of undisguised uueasiaess.

" That which must," said Edith, firmly. " We must
see this gentleman, and place ourselves in his mercy."

So saying, she began hastily to undo a curtain, which
at one place covered an entrance or commanication.

" For Heaven's sake, forbear — consider," said the
Queen, " my apartment — our dress — the hour — my hon-
our ! "

But ere she could detail her remonstrances, the curtain
fell, and there was no division any longer betwixt the
armed knight and the party of ladies. The warmth of

L

230 WATERLET K0TB1.8.

an E.iFtem night occasioned the undress of Queen Beren-
garia and her household to be rather more simple and
unstudied than their station, and the presence of a male
spectator of rank, required. This the Queen remem-
bered, and with a loud shriek fled from the apartment
where Sir Kenneth was disdosed to view in a copartment
of the ample pavilion, now no longer separated from that
in which they stood. The grief and agitation of the Lady
Edith, as well as the deep interest she felt in a hasty ex-
planation with the Scottish knight, perhaps oiM^sioned her
forgetting that her locks were more dishevelled, and her
person less heedfuUy covered, than was the wont of high-
horn damsels, in an age which was not, after all, the most
prudish or scrupulous period of the ancient time. A thin
loose garment of pink-coloured silk made the principal
pai-t of her vestments, wilb Oriental slippers, into which
Bhe had hastily thrust her bare feet, and a scarf hurriedly
and loosely thrown about her shoulders. Her liead had
no other covering than tjie veil of rich and dishevelled
locks falling round it on every side, that half hid a coun-
tenance, which a mingled sense of modesty, and of resent-
ment, and other deep and agitating feeUngs, had covered
with crimson.

But although Edith felt her situation with all that deli-
cacy which is her sex's greatest charm, it did not seem
that for a moment she placed her own bashfuln'cBS in com-
parison witli the duty, which, as she thought, she owed to
him, who had been led into error and danger on her ac-
count. She drew, indeed, her scarf more closely over her
neck and bosom, and she hastily laid from her hand a
lamp, which shed too much lustre over her figure ; but^
while Sir Kenneth sUiod motionless on the same spot in
phieh he was first discovered, she rather stepped towards

THE TALI9MA!*. 231

than retired from iiira, ns alie exclaimed, " Haslen to your
post, valiant knii^ht ! — you are deceived in being trained
hither — ask no questions."

" I need aak none," said the knight, sinking npon one
knee, with the reverential devotion of a saint at the altar,
and handing his eyes on the grouud, lest hia looks should
increase the lady's embarrassment,

" Have you he^rd all ? " said Edith, impatiently —
" Gracious saints ! then wherefore wait you here, when
each minnle that passes is loaded with dishonour I "

" I have heard that I am dishonoured, lady, and I have
heard it from you," answered Kenneth. " What reck I
how soon punishment follows ? I have but one petition
to you. and then I seek, among the sabres of (he infidels,
whether dishonour may not be washed out with blood,"

" Do not so, neither," said the lady. " Be wise —
dally not here — all may yet be well, if you wiU but use
dispatch."

" I wait but for your forgiveness," said the knight, still
kneeling, " for my presumption in believing my poor ser-
vices eonld have been required or valued by yon."

" I do forgive you— O, I have nothing to forgive ! —
I have been the means of injuring yon — But 0 begone !
— I will forgive — 1 will value you — that is, as I value
every hrave Crusader — if you will but begone ! "

" Receive first, this precious yet fatal pledgi
knight, tendering the ring to Edith, who
gestures of impatience.

" Oh, no, no," she said, declining to receive
it — keep it as a mark of my regard — my regr
say. O, begone, if not for your own sake, for

Almost recompensed for the loss even of hoi

her voice had denounced to him, by the interest which

IS2 wavbhi-kt uovbis.

she seemed to testify in hia safety, Sir Kenneth rose. from
his knee, and, c&sting a momentary glance on Edith,
bowed low and seemed ahout to withdraw. At the some
instant, that maidenly bashfulness, which the energy of
Edith's feelings had till then triumphed over, becnnie con-
queror in its turn, and she Iiaalened from "the apartment,
extinguisliing her lamp as she went, and leaving, in Sir
Kenneth's thoughts, both mental and natural gloom be-
hind her.

She must be obeyed, was the first distinct idea' which
waked him from his reverie, and he hastened to the place
by which he had entered the pavilion. To pass under
the canvas in the manner he had entered, required time
and attention, and he made a readier aperture by slitting
the canvas wall with his poniard. When in the free
air, he felt rather stupefied and overpowered by a conflict
of sensations, than able to ascertain what was the real
import of the whole. He was obliged lo spur himself to
action, by recollecting that the commands of the Lady
Edith had required haste. Even then, engaged as he
was amongst tent-ropes and tents, he was compelled to
move with caution imtil he should regain the patli or
avenue, aside from which the dwarf had led him, in order
to escape the observation of the guards before the Queen's
pavilion ; and he was obliged also to move slowly, and
with precaution, to avoid giving an alarm, either by fall-
ing, or by the clashing of his armour. A thin cloud had
obscured the moon, too, at the very instant of his leaving
the tent, and Sir Kenneth had lo struggle with this incon-
venience at a moment when the dizziness of his head, and
the falness of his heart, scarce lefi him powers of intelli-
gence sufficient to direct hi^i motions.

But al once sounds came upon his ear, which Instantly

I

THE TALISMAN. 233

recalled him to the full energy of his faculties. Tliese
proceeded from the Mount of Saint George. He heard
first a single fierce, angry, and savage bark, which was
immediately followed by a yell of Jigony. No deer ever
bounded with a wilder start at the voice of Roswal, than
did Sir Kenneth at what he feared was the death-cry of
that noble hound, from whom no ordinary injury could
have extracted even the slightest acknowledgment of
pain. He surmounted the space which divided him from
the avenue, and, having attained it, began to run towards
the mount, although loaded with his mail, faster than
most men could have accompanied him even if unarmed,
relaxed not his pace for the steep sides of the artificial
mound, and in a few minutes stood on the platform upon
its summit

The moon broke through the cloud at this moment, and
showed him that the standard of England was vanished,
that the spear on which it floated lay broken on the
ground, and beside it was his faithful hound, apparentlj
in the agonies of death.

WAVERLET KOVELS.

CHAPTER XIV.

tun 9lDlBtUH.

After a lorrent of afflicting sensations, by which he
was at first almost stunned and confounded. Sir Kenneth's
first thought was to look for the aotliors of this violalion
of the English banner ; but in no direction could he see
traces of them. His nest, which to some persons, but
scarce to any who have made intimate acquaintances
among the canine race, may appear strange, was to ex-
amine the condition of his faithful Eoswal, mortally
wounded, as it seemed, in discharging the duty which his
master had been seduced to abandon. He caressed the
dying animal, who, faithful to the last, seemed (o forget
his own p!un in the satisfaction he received from bis mas-
ter's presence, and continued wagging his tail and licking
his hand, even while by low moanings he expressed that
his agony was increased by the attempts which Sir Ken-
neth made lo withdraw from the wound the fragment of
the lance, or javelin, with which it had been inflicted ;
then redoubled his feeble endearments, as if fearing he
had offended his master by showing a sense of the pain
to which his interference had subjected him. Tliere waa

THE TALISMAN. 235

something in the display of the dying creature's aliacli-
menl, which mixed aa a bitter ingredient with the sense
of disgrace and desolation by which Sir Kenneth was
oppressed. His only friend seemed removed from hira,
just when he had incurred the contempt and hatred of all
besides. *The knight's strength of mind gave way to
a barst of agonized distress, and he groaned and wept

While he thus indulged his grief, a clear and solemn
Totce, close beside him, pronounced these words in the
sonorous tone of the readers of the raosqne, and ia the
Lingua Franca, mutually understood by Christians and
Saracens : —

"Adversity is like the period of the former and of the
latter rain — cold, comfortless, unfriendly to man and to
animal ; yet from that season have their birth the flower
and the fruit, the date, the rose, and the pomegranate,"

Sir Kenneth of the Leopard turned towai-ds the speaker,
and beheld the Arabian physician, who, approaching UD-
heard, had seated himself a little behind him cross-legged,
and uttered with gravity, yet not without a (one of sym-
pathy, the moral sentences of consolation with which the
Koran and its commentators supplied him ; for, in the
East, wisdom is held to consist, less in a display of the
sage's own inventive talents, than in his ready memory,
and happy application of, and reference to, " that which
is written."

Ashamed at being surprised in a woman-like expres-
sion of sorrow. Sir Kenneth dashed his tears indignantly
aside, and again busied himself with his dying favourite.

"The poet hath said," continued the Arab, without
noticing the knight's averted looks and sullen deportment
■ — "the ox for the field, and the camel for the desert.

" ■

J

23 G

■WATEELET NOVELS.

"Wore not the hand of the leech fitter than fhat of tha
soldier to cure wounds, though less able to inflict

"This patient, Hakim, is beyond thy help," said Sir
Kenneth; "and, besides, he is, by thy law, an unclean
animal."

" Where Allah hath deigned to bestow life, and a
sense of pain and pleasure," said the physician, "it were
sinful pride should Ihe sage, whom he haa enlightened, '
refuse to prolong existence, or assuage agony. To the
sage, the cure of a miserable groom, of a poor dog, and
of a conquering monarch, are events of litUe distinction.
Let me examine this wounded animal."

Sir Kenneth acceded in silence, and (he physician ia-
Bpected and handled Eoswal's wound with as much care
and attention as if he had been a human being. He then
took forth a case of instruments, and, by the judicious and
skilful application of pincers, withdrew from the wounded
shoulder the fragment of the weapon, and stopped with
styptics and bandages the effusion of blood which fol-
lowed ; the creature all the while suffering him patiently
to perform these kind offices, as if he had been aware of
his kind intentions.

" The animal may be cured," siud El Hakim, address-
ing himself to Sir Kenneth, " if you will permit me to
carry him to my tent, and treat him with the care which
the nobleness of his nature deserres. For know, that
thy servant Adonbec is no less skilful in the race and
pedigree, and distinctions of good dogs and of noble steeds,
than in the diseases which aSect the human race."

" Take him with you," said the knight. " I bestow
him on you freely if he recovers. I owe thee a reward
fi>r attendance on my squire, and have nothing else to

THE TALISMAN. 237

pay it with. For myself, — I will nevei' again wind bugle,
or hnlloo to hound I "

The Arabian made no reply, but gave a signal with a
clapping of his hands, which was instantly answered by
the appearance of two black slaves. He gave Ibcm hia
orders in Arabic, received llie answer, that " to benr waa
to obey," when, taking the animal in their arin», they
removed him, without much resistance on his part ; for
though his eyes turned to his master, he was too weak to

" Fare thee well, Boswal, then," said Sif Kenneth, —
"fare thee well, my last and only friend-~lhou art too
noble a posses:^ion to be retained by one such as I must
in future call myself. — I would," he said, as the slaves
retired, " that, dying as be is, I could exchange conditions
with that noble animal."

" It is written," answered the Arabian, alihoiigb the
exclamation had not been addressed to liim, " tliat all
creatures are fastiioned for the service of man ; and the
master of the earth speaketh foUy when he would ex-
change, in his impatience, his hopes here and to come,
for the servile condition of an inferior being."

"A dog who dies in discharging his duly," said the
knight, sternly, " is better than a man who survives the "
desertion of iL Leave me. Hakim ; thou hast, on this
side of miracle, the most wonderful science which man
ever possessed, but the wounds of the spirit are beyond
thy power."

" Not if the patient will explain his calamity, and be
guided by the physician," said Adonbeo el Hakim.

" Know, then," said Sir Kenneth, " since thou art so
importunate, that last night the Banner of England was
displayed from this mound — I was its appointed guardian

238

WAVERLET NOVELS.

' — morning ia now breaking — there lies the broken ban-
ner-spear— the standard itself ia lost— and here sit I a

" How ! " said El Hakim, examining Lim ; " thy ar-
mour ia whole — there is no blood on thy weapons, and
report speaks thee one nnlikely to return thus from
fight. — Thou hast been trained from tby post — ay, trained
by the rosy cheek and black eye of one of those houris,
to whom you Nazarenea vow rather such service as is
due to Allah, than such love as may lawfully be rendered
to forms of clay like our own. It has been thus as-
suredly ; for so hath man ever fallen, even since the daya
of Sultan Adam."

"And if it were so, physician," said Sir Kenneth, sul-
lenly, " what remedy?"

" Knowledge is the parent of power," said El Hakim,
" as yalour supplies strength. — Listen to me. Man is
not as a tree, bound to one spot of earlb — nor is he
framed to cling to one bare rock, like the scarce animated
Bhell-fish. Thine own Christian writings command ibee,
■when persecuted in one city to flee to another ; and we
Moslem also know that Mohammed, the Prophet of
Allah, driven forth from the holy city of Mecca, found
" his refuge and his helpmates at Medina."

"And what does this concern me?" said the Scot.

"Much," answered the physician. "Even the sago
flies the tempest which he cannot control. Use thy
speed, therefore, and fly from the vengeance of Richard
to the shadow of Saladin'a victorious banner."

" I might indeed hide my dishonour," said Sir Kenneth,
ironically, "in a camp of infidel heatliens, where the very
phrase is unknown. But had I not better partake more
fully in their reproach? Does not thy advice stretch aa

THE TALISSIAS. 230

far as to recommend me to lake the turban? — Metliinka
I want but apostasy to coiisumraate my infamy."

"Blaspheme not, Nasorene/'said the ptiysician, sternly;
" Saluilin makes no converts to the law of the Prophet,
save those on whom iu precepts shall work conviclioit.
Open thine eyea to the light, and the great Soldan, whose
liberality is as houndless as hid power, may bestow on
thee a kingdom; remain blinded if thou wilt, and, being
one whose second life is doomed to misery, Saludin will
yet, for this span of present lime, make thee rich and
happy. But fuar not that ihy brows sbail be bound with
the turban, save at thine own free cLoice."

" My choice were ralher," said the knight, "ihat my
writhen features should blacken, as ihey are hke to do, in
this evening's setting sun."

" Yet thou- art not wise, Nazarene," said El Hakim,
" to reject this fair o£fer ; for I hare power with Saladin,
and can raise thee high in his grace. Look you, my Bqn
— this Crusade, as you call your wild enterprise, is like a
large dromond • parting asunder in the waves. Thou
thyself hast borne terms of Iruce from ihe Kings and
Princes, whose force is here assembled, to the mighty
Soldan, and .knew'st not, perchance, the full tenor of
thine own errand."

"I knew not, and I care not," said the knight, im-
patiently ; '* what avails it to me that I have been of late
the envoy of princes, when, ere night, \ shall be a gib-
beted and dishonoured corse ? "

" Nay, I speak that it may not be so with thee," said
the physician. " Saladin is courted on all sides ; the
combined Princes of this league formed against him, have

210

VTAVERLET NOVELS.

made euch proposals of composition and peace, as, in
other circumslances, it might have become his honour lo
have granted to them. Others have made privale offers,
on their own separate account, to disjoin their forces from
the camp of the Kings of Frangialan, and even to lend
their arms lo the defence of the standard of the PropheL
But Saladin wiU not be served by such treacherous and
interested defection. The King of kings will treat only
with the Lion King. Saladin will hold treaty with none
but the Mekch Kic, and with him be will treat like a
prince, or fight like a. champion. To Richard he will
yitld sui;h conditions of his free hberality, as the swords
of all Europe could never compel from him by force or
terror. He will permit a free pilgrimage to Jerusalem,
and all the places where the Nazarenes list to worship ;
nay, he will go far share even his empire with bis brother
Bichard, that he will allow Christian garrisons in the six
Etrongest cities of Palestine, and one in Jerusalem itself,
and suffer them to be under the immediate command of
the officers of Richard, who, he consents, shall bear the
name of King Guardian of Jerusalem. Tet farther,
strange and incredible as you may think it, know, Sir
Knight — for to your honour I can commit even that
almost incredible secret — know that Saladin will put a
sacred seal on this happy union betwixt the bravest and
noblest of Frangistan and Asia, by raising to tlie rank of
bis royal spouse a Christian damsel, allied in blood to
King Richard, and known by the same of the Lady
Edith of Plantagenet," "

* Thia may Hppenr bo estroordinHry and improbn'blB B proposition,
that it is Dflcessnry lo any BUoh n oufl was dclually made. The hi»-
toriima, liowoTer, aubstiCnto the widowed Quean of Naplaa, ebter of
Bioliard, for tbe bride, and Saliidin'i brother for llie bridagroom.

THE TALISMAN, 241

"Ha! — aaj'st ihou?" exclaimed Sir Kenneth, who,
listening with iniJiffei-ence and apathy to the preceding
part or £1 Hakim's fpeeeh, vas touched by this last com*
muniualion, as the ihrill of a nerve, unexpectedly jarred,
will awnken the een^tion of agony, even in the torpor
of pal.^y. Then, moderating his lone, by dint of much
effort, he restrained his indignation, and, veiling it under
the appearance of contemptuous doubt, he prosecuted Ihe
conver^tiun in order to get as much knowledge as poa*
sible of the plot, as he deemed it, against the honour and
happiness of her, whom he loved not the less that his
passion had ruined, apparently, hia fortunes, at once,
and his honour, — " And what Christian," he aaid, with
tolerable calmness, " would sanction a union so unnatural,
as that of a Christian maiden with an unbelieving
Saracen ? "

" Thou art but an ignorant bigoted Nazai'ene," said the
Uakim. " See'st thou not how the Mohammednn princes
daily intermarry with the noble Nazavene maidens in
Spain, without scandal either lo Moor or Christian?
And tiie noble Soldan will, in his full confidence in the
blood of Richard, permit the English maid the freedom
which your Prankish manners have assigned to women.
He will allow her the fi-ee exercise of her religion, —
seeing that, in very truth, it signifies but Hitle to which'
faith lemales are addicted, — and he will assign her such
place and rank over all the women of his zenana, that she
ahall he in every respect his sole and absolute Queen."

" What ! " said Sir Kenneth, " darest thou think, Mos-
lem, that Richard would give his kinswoman — a high-
born and virtuous princess, — lo be, at best, the foremost

;e of Edith of Plan-
ii. p. 61.

WAVE n LET HfOVKLS.

2i-2

coDCubinc in thu baramof a misbeliever!* Know, Uakim,
the meanest free Christian noble would scorn, on hia
cliild'ri behalf, suuh splendid ignominy."

"Thou eiTest," said the Hakim; "Philip of France,
and Uenty of Champagne, and others of Bichard's prin-
cipal alliee, have heard the proposal without starting, and
hnve promised, aa far as they may, to forward an alliance
that may end these wasteful wars ; and the wise arch-
priest of Tyre haih undertaken to break the proposal to
Richard, not doubting tliat he shall be able to bring the
plan to good issue. The Soldan's wisdom haih as yet
kept his proposition secret fi-oui others, such as he of
Montserrat, and the Master of the Templar?, because he
knows they seek to flirive by Richard's death or disgrace,
not by his life or honour. — Up, therefore, Sii' Kniglil, and
to horse. I will give thee a scroll which shall advance
thee highly with the Soldan ; and deem not that j'ou ara
leaving your country, or her cause, or her religion, since
the inteiijsf of the two raonarchs will speedily be the
same. To Saladin thy counsel will be most acceptable,
since thou canst make him aware of much concerning
the marriages of the Christians, the treatment of their
wives, and other pomta of their laws and usages, which,
in the course of such treaty, it much concerns him that
he should know. The right hand of the Soldan grasps
the treasures of the East, and is the fountain of generosity.
Or, if thou desirest it, Saladin, when allied with England,
can have but litrie difficulty to obtain from Richard not
only thy pardon and restoration to favour, but an honour-
able command in the troops which may be left of the
King of England's host, to maintain their joint govern-
ment in Palestine. Up, then, and mount, — there lies a
plain path before iheo."

TUE TALISMAN. 243

" Hakim," said the Scottish knighl, " ihon art a man of
peace — also, iboii hnst saved the life of Richard of Eng-
land— and, moreover, of my own poor esquire, Strauchan.
I have, therefore, heard to an end a mailer, which, being
propounded by another Moslem than thyself, I would
have cut short with a blow of my dagger I Hakim, in
return for tliy kindness, I advise thee to see that the
Saracen, who shall propose to Ricliard a union betwixt
the blood of Flantagenet and that of his accursed race,
do put on a helmet, which is capable to endure such a
blow of a battle-axe as tliat which struck down the gate
of Acre. Certes, he will be otherwise placed beyond the
reach even of thy skill."

"Thou art, then, wilfully determined not to fly to the
Saracen host?" suid the physician — "Yet, remember,
thou stayest to ccilain destruction ; and the writings of
thy law, as well as ours, prohibit man from breaking into
the tabernacle of his own life."

"God forbid!" replied the Scot, crossing hitnEelf;
"hut we are also forbidden to avoid the punishment
which our crimes have deserved. And, since so poor
are thy thoughts of fidelity, Hakim, it grudges me
that I liave bestowed my good hound on thee, for,
should he live, he will hare a master ignorant of his
value."

"A gift that is begrudged, is already recalled," said
El Hakim, " only we physicians are sworn not to send
away a patient uncnred. If the dog recover, he ia onco
more yours."

" Go to. Hakim," answered Sir Kenneth ; " men speak
not of hawk and hound when there is hut an hour of
day-breaking betwixt them and death. Leave me to
recollect my sins, and reconcile myself to Heaven."

2ii

WATERLET HOVELS.

L

" 1 leave thee in thine obsdnacy," said the physician ;
"the mist hides the predpice from those who are doomed
to fall over it."

He withdrew slowly, turning from time to time his
head, aa if to ohserre whether the devoted knight might
not recall him either by word or signal. At last bis
turbaned figure was lost among- the labyrinth of tenta
which lay extended beneath, whitening in the pale light
of the dawning, before which the moonbeam had now
faded away.

But although the physician Adonhec'a woi'da had not
made that impression upon Kenneth which the sage
desired, they had inspired the Scot with a motive for
desiring life, which, dishonoured as he conceived himself
to be, he was before willing to part from as from a sullied
vestment no longer becoming his wear. Much that had
passed betwixt himself and the hermit, besides what he
had observed between ihe anchorite and Sheerkohf, (or
Ilderim,) he now recalled to recollection, and (ended to
confirm what the Hakim had told him of the secret article
of the treaty.

"The reverend impostor!" he exclaimed to himself;
" the hoary hypociite ! He spoke of the unbelieving
husband converted, by the believing wife — and what do I
know but that the traitor exhibited to the Saracen, ac-
cursed of God, the beauties of Edith Plantagenet, that
the hound might judge if the princely Christian lady
were fit to be admitted into the haram of a misbeliever ?
If I had yonder infidel Ilderim, or whatsoever he is
called, again in the gripe with which I once held him fast
as ever hound held hare, never again should he at least
come on errand disgraceful to the honour of Christian
king, or noble and virtuous maiden. But I — my houra

i

THE TALISMAN. 245

are hat dwindling into minntes — ^jet, while I have life
and breathy something mnst be done, and speedily."

He paused £)r a few minutes, threw from him his
helmet, then strode down the hill, and took the road to
Eng Bichard*s pavilioa.

WATKRLET HOVXLB.

CHAPTER XV.

The comlnB of ths m

King Bdmrd mw Uie i

or Ugbt eclipn tba b

Prorlalm tho feted toy

TbAt

10 aslJ, " (br, bj Uia God

On the evening on which Sir Kenneth assumed his
post, Richard, after the stormy event which disturbed ita
tranquillity, had retired lo rest in the plenitude of confi-
dence inspired hy his unbounded courage, and the Bupe-
riority which he had displayed in carrying the point ho
aimed at in presence of the whole Christian host, and its
leaders, many of whom, he was aware, regarded in their
secret souls the disgrace of the Austrian Duke as a tri-
umph oTev themselves ; so that his pride felt gratified,
that in prostra.ting one enemy he had mortified a hun-
dred.

Another monarch would have doubled his guard3 on

ing after such a scene, and kept at least a part

nf his troops under arms. Bat Cceur de Lion dismissed,

THB TALIBHAir. 247

Dpon llie occasion, evea his ordiDaiy walcb, and assigned
to Lis siildiers a donative of wine to celebrate his recoveiy,
and to drink to the Banner of Saint George ; and his
quarter of the camp would have assumed a character
totally devoid of vigilance and military preparation, but
that Sir Thomas de Vaus, the Earl of Salisbury, and
other nobles, took precautions to preserve order and dis-
cipline among the revellers.

The physician attended the King from his retiring to
bed till midnight was past, and twice administered medi-
cine to him during that period, always previously observ-
ing the quarter of heaven occupied by the full moon,
whose influences he declared to be most sovereign, or
most baleful, to the effect of his drugs. It was three
hours after midnight ere El Hakim withdrew from the
royal tent, to one which had been pitched for himself and
his retinue. In his way thither he visited the tent of Sir
Kenneth of the Leopard, in order to see the condition of .
his first patient in the Christian camp, old Strauchan, as
the knight's esquire was named. Inquiring there for Sir
Kenneth himself, El Hakim learned on what duty be was
employed, and probably this information led him to Saint
George's Mount, where bo found him whom he sought in
the disastrous circumstances alluded to in the la^t chapter.

It was about the hour of sunrise, when a slow, ai'med
tread was heard approaching the King's pavilion ; and
ere De Vaux, who slumbered beside his master's bed as
lightly as ever sleep sat upon the eyes of a watch-
dog, had time to do more than arise and say, "Who
comes?" the Knight of the Leopard entered the tent,
with a deep and devoted gloom sealed upon his manly
features.

"WhenM this bold intrusion, Sir Knight?" said De

L

248 WATEBLBT HOTELS.

TauK, slernly, jet in a tone which respected his master's

" Hold ! De Vaux," said Eichard, awaking on the
instant ; "Sir Keaneth cometL like a good soldier to ren-
der an account of his guard — to such tbe General's tent
is ever accessible." — Tlien rising from bis slumbering
posture, and leaning on his elbow, he filed hia large
bright eye upon ibe warrior — " Speak, Sir Scot ; thou
comest to tell me of a vigilant, safe, and honourable
watch, dost thou not? The rustling of the folds of the
Banner of England were enough to guard it, even wilh-
out the body of such a knight as men hold thee."

" As men will hold me no more," said Sir Kenneth —
" my watch hath neither been vigilant, safe, nor honoar-
ahle. Tbe Banner of England has been carried off,"

" And thou alive to tell it ? " said Richard, ia a tone of
derisive ipcreduiity. — " Away, it cannot be. There is not
even a scratch on tby face. — Why dost thou stand thoa
mute ? Speak the truth — it ia ill jesting with a King —
yet I will for^ve thee if thou hast lied."

" Lied ! Sir King I " returned the unfortunate knight,
with fierce emphasis, and one glance of fire from his eye,
bright and transient as the fiash from the cold and stony
flinL " But this also must be endured — I have spoken
the truth,"

"By God, and by Saint George!" said the king,
bursting into fury, which, howeyer, he instantly cbecked
— " De Vaux, go view the spot — This fever baa dislurbed
his brain — This cannot be — The man's courage is proof
— It cannot be I Go speedily — or send, if thou wilt not

The King was interrupted by Sir Henry Neville, who
same, breathless, to say that the banner was gone, and

TBE VJI.IBHAIT.

349

perpowei'cd, and most prob-
3 a pool of Liood where the

the knight who guartled it o
ably murdered, as lliere wi
baimer-spear lay shivered.

" But whom do I sec here ? " aaid Neville, his eyea
suddenly restiag upon Sir Kenneth.

" A traitor," said the King, starting to his feet, and
seizing the curtal-axe, which was ever near Jiis bed — "a
traitor! whom thou shalt see die a traitor's death." — And
he drew back the weapon as in act to strike.

Colourless, but tii'm as a marble statue, the Scot stood
before him, with his bare head uncovered by any protec-
tion, his eyes cast down lo the earth, his lips scarcely
moving, yet muttering probably in prayer. Opposite to
him, and within the due reach for a blow, stood King
Riehai'd, his large person wrapt in the folds of his camis-
cia, OP ample gown of hnen, except where the violence
of his action had flung the coveting from his right arm,
shoulder, and a part of his breast, leaving lo view a spec-
imen of a frame which might have merited his Saxon
predecessor's epithet of Ironside. He stood for an in-
stant, prompt to strike — tlien sinking the head of the
weapon towards the ground, he exclaimed, "But there
was blood, Neville — there was blood upon the place.
Hark thee, Sir Scot — brave thon wert once, for I have
seen thee fight — Say thou hast slain two of the thieves in
defence of the Standard— say but one — say thou hast
struck but a good blow in our behalf, and get thee out of
the camp with thy life and thy infamy!"

" You have called me liar, my Lord King," replied
Kenneth, firmly ; " and therein, at least, you have done
me wrong — Know, that there was no blood shed in de-
fence of the Standard save that of a poor hound, which,
more faithful tiian his master, defended the charge which
he deserted."

250

WiVERLET WOTELB.

" Now, by Saint George ! " said Richard, again heav-
ing up his arm — Hut De Vaux threw himself between
Ihe King anil the object of his vengeance, and spoke ivith
the blunt trulh of his character, " My liege, this must not
be — here, nor by your own hand. It is enough of folly
for one night and day, to have intrusted your banner )o a
Scot — said I not they were ever fair and false ? " »

" Thou didst, De Vaux ; thou wast right, and I confess
it," said Richard. " I should have known him better — I
should have remembered how the fox William deceived
me touching this Crusade."

"My lord," said Sir Kenneth, "William of Scotland
never deceived ; but circumstances prevented his bring-
ing hia forces."

" Peace, shameless ! " said the King ; " thou sulliest
the name of a prince, even by speaking it. — And yet, De
Vaux, it is strange," he added, " to see the bearing of the
man. Coward or traitor he must be, yet he abode the
blow of Richard Flanlagenet, as our arm had been raised
to lay knighthood on his shoulder. Had he shown the
slightest sign of fear — had but a joint trembled, or an
eyelid quivered, I had shattered his bead like a crystal
goblet. But I cannot strike where there is neither fear

There was a pause.

" My lord," said Kenneth

" Ha ! " replied Richard, interrupting him, " hast thou

* Saah wSTH the torms in which the English nsed to apeak of theii
poor northom neighboura, forgetting tlint thelt own eiiGroacbmenU
upon the iadependence of ticotlsjid obliged the wcuker natiDn In de-
fend themselves bj policy as well as force. The disgrace mnst be
divided between Kdwiird I. and Ul., who enforced their dominalioD
over n free country, nnd the Scots, who were compelled to take com-
pulsory oaths, without any purpose of Iteeplne them.

THE TALISMAK. 351

found thy speech ? Ask grace from Heaven, but none
from mo, for England ia dishonoured through thy fault;
and wcrt thou mine own and only brother, there ia no
pardon for thy faulL"

" I speak not to demand grace of morlal man," eaid the
Scot ; " it is in your Grace's pleasure to give or refuse
me time for Christian shriii — if man denies it, may God
grant me the absolution which I would otherwise ask of
his Church ! But whether I die on the inatant, or half
an hour hence, I equally beaeecb your Grace for one mo-
ment's opportunity to speak that to your royal person,
which highly concerns your fame as a Christian King."

" Say on," said the King, mating no doubt that he was
about to hear some confession concerning the loss of the

" What I have to speak," said Sir Kenneth, " touches
the royalty of England, and must be said to no ears but

" Begone with yourselves, sirs," said the King to
Neville and De Vaux.

The first obeyed, but the latter would not stir from the
King's presence.

" If you said I was ia the right," replied De Vaui to
his sovereign, " I will be treated as one should be who
hath been found to be right — fliat ia, I will have my own
will. I leave you not with this false Scot."

" How ! De Vaux," said Richard, angrily, and stamp-
ing slightly, " darest thou not venture our person with

" It is in vain you frown and stamp, my lord," said De
Vaux ; " I venture not a sick man with a sound one, a
naked man with one armed in pi'oof."

" It matters not," said the Scottish knight, " I seek

J

252

WATEBLET HOTELS.

excuse to pul off time — 1 will speak in presence of the
Lord of Gibland. He is good lord and true."

ce," said De Vaus, with a groan,
Drrow and vexation, " and I had

" But half an hour si
inSplying a mixture of
said as much for theo !

" There ia (reason ai
tinned Sir Kenneth.

" It may well be
have a pregnant ex

"Treason that will injure
IcBs of an liondred banners

id you, King of England,"

thou Bay'st," replied Kicbard, " I

pie."

ee more deeply than the
a pitched field. The —

the" — Sir Kenneth hesitated, and at length continned, in
a lower tone, " The Ladj Edith "

" Ha ! " said the King, drawing himself suddenly into a
slate of haughty attention, and fixing his eye firmly on
the supposed criminal ; " What of her ? — what of her ? —
what has she to do with this matter ? "

" My lord," said the Scot, " there is a scheme on foot
to disgrace your royal lineage by bestowing the hand of
the Lady Edith on the Saracen Soldan, and thereby to
purchase a peace most dishonourable to Christendom, by
an alliance most shameful tji England."

This communication had precisely the contrary effect
from that which Sir Kenneth expected. Kichard Plan-
tagenet was one of those, who, in lago's words, would not
serve God because it was the devil who bade him ; advice
or information often affected him less according to its real
import, than through the tinge which it look from the sup-
posed character and views of those by whom it was com-
municated. Unfortunately the mention of his relative's
name renewed hia recollection of what he had considered
as extreme presumption in the Knight of the Leopard,
even when he stood high in the rolls of chivniry, but

THE TA.LISUAN. '^53

which, in hia present condition, appeared an insult suffi-
cient to drive the fiery monarch into a frenzy of passion.

" Silence," he said, " infamous and audacious 1 By
Heaven, I will have thy toaguc torn out with hot pincers,
for mentioning the very name of a noble Christian dam-
ael ! Know, degenerate traitor, that I was already aware
to what height thou liadst dared to raise thine eyes, and
endured it, though it were insolence, even when thou
badst cheated us — for thou art all a deceit — into holding
thee a£ of some name and fame. But now, with lips bhs~
tered with theconfessionof thine own dishonour— that thou
shonldst now dare to name our noble kinswoman as one
in whose fate thou bast part or interest ! What is it to
thee if she marry Saracen or Christian ? — what is it to
thee, if in a camp where princes turn cowards by day,
and robbers by night — where brave knights turn to paltry
deserters and traitors — what is it, I say, to thee, or any
one, if I should please to ally myself to truth, and to
valour, in the person of Saladin?"

" Little lo me, indeed, to whom all the world will soon
be as nothing," answered Sir Kenneth, boldly; "but
were I now stretched on the rack, I would tell thee, that
what I have said is much to thine own conscience and
thine own fame. I tell thee, Sir King, that if thou dost
hut in thought entertain the purpose of wedding thy kins-
woman, the Lady Edith "

" Name ber not — and for an instant think not of her,"
said the King, again straining the eurtal-axe in his gripe,
until the muscles started above his brawny arm, like
cordage formed hy the ivy around the limb of an oak.

" Not name — not think of her I " answered Sir Ken-
neth, his spirits, stunned as they were by self-depression,
beginning lo recover their elasticity from this species of

254

WAVEKLET NOVELS.

controversy, — " Now, by the Cross, on which I place my
hope, her name shall be the last word in my mouth, her
image the last thought in ray mind. Try thy boasted
strength on this bare brow, and see if thou canst prevent

" He will drive me mad ! " said Eichard, who, in his
despite, was once more staggered in hia purpose by the
daunilesa defcrmination of the criminal.

Ere Thomas of Gilsland could reply, some bustle was
heard without, and the arrival of the Queen was an-
nounced from (he outer part of the pavilion.

"Detain her— detain her, Neville," said the King;
" this is no sight for women — Fie, that I have saffered
such a paltry traitor to chafe me thus ! — Away with him,
De Vaux," he whispered, " through the back -entrance of
our tent — eoop him up elose, and answer for his safe cus-
tody with your life, — And bark ye — he is presently to
die — let him have a ghostly father— we would not kill
soul and body. — And stay — hark thee — we will not have
hira dishonoured — he shall die knightlike, in his belt and
spurs ; for if his treachery be as black as hell, his bold-
ness may match that of the devil himself."

De Vaus, right glad, if the truth may be guessed, that
the scene ended without Richard's descending to the ua-
kingly act of himself slaying an unresisting prisoner,
made haste to remove Sir Kenneth by a private issue to
a separate tent, where he was disarmed and put in fet-
ters for security, De Vaux looked on with a steady
and melancholy attention, while the provost's officers, to
whom Sir Kenneth was now committed, took these severe
precautions.

When they were ended, he said solemnly to the un-
happy criminal — " It is King Richard's pleasure that yoa

355

31e undogi'aded — without mutilalii
shame to your arms — and that j

Q of your bi.dy, or
)ur head be aevered
from the trunk by the sword of the executioner."

" It is kind," paid the knight, in a low and rather sub-
misaive tone of voice, as one who received an unespected
favour j " my family will not then hear the worst of the
tale — Oh, my father — my father 1 "

Thid muttered invocation did not escape the blunt but
kindly-natured Englishman, and he brushed the back
of his lai^e hand over his rough features, ere he could
proceed.

■ " It is Richard of England's farther pleasure," he said,
at length, " that you have speech with a holy man, and
I have met on the passage hither with a Carmelite friar,
who may fit you for your passage. He wails without,
until you are in a habit of mind to receive him."

" Let it be inslanlly," said the knight. " In this also
Kchard is kind. I cannot be more fit to see the good
- father at any time than now ; for life and I have taken
farewell, as two travellers who have arrived at the cross-
way, where their roads separate."

" It is well," said De Vans, slowly and solemnly ; " for
it irks me somewhat to say that which sums my message.
It is King Richard's pleasure that you prepare for instant
death."

" God's pleasure and the king's be done," replied th£
knight, patiently. " I neither contest the justice of (he
sentence, nor desire delay of the execution."

De Vaux began to leave the tent, but very slowly —
paused at the door, and looked back at the Scot, from
whose aspect thoughts of Ihe world seemed banished, as
if he was composing himself into deep devotion. The
feelings of the stout English Baron were in general none

256

WAVEKtEY NOVELS,

of tlie most acute, and yet, on the present oecasioa, laa
sjmpalhy overpowered him in an unusual manner. He
came hastily back to the bundle of reeda on which the
captive lay, took one of his fettered hands, and said, with
as much softness as his rough voice was capable of ei-
presaing, " Sir Kenneth, thon art yet young — thou haat a
father. My Ralph, whom I left training his Httle gallo-
way nag on the banks pi the Ii-thing, may one day attain
thy years — and, but for last night, would lo God I saw
his youth bear such promise as thine ! — Can nothing be
said or done in thy behalf?"

"Nothing," was the melancholy answer. "I have ■
deserted my charge — the banner intrusted to me is lost —
when the headsman and block are prepared, the head and
trunk are ready to part company."

"Nay, then, God have mercy!" said De Vaux; "yet
would I rather than my best horse I had taken that watch
jnyaelf. There is mysl«ry in it, young man, as a plain

man may descry, though he cannot sec through it.

Cowardice? pshaw! No coward ever fought as I have
seen thee do. — Ti-eachery? I cannot thiafc traitors die
in their treason so calmly. Thou hast been trained from
thy post by some deep guile — some well-devised strat^era
— the cry of some distressed maiden lias caught thine
ear, or the laughful look of some merry one has taken
thine eye. Never blush for it, we have all been led
aside by such gear. Come, I pray thee, make a cleatt
conscience of it to me, instead of the priest. Richard is
met^ful when his mood is abated. Hast thou nothing to
intrust to me?"

The unfortunate knigbt turned his face from the kind
warrior, and answered — "Nothing."

And De Vaiis, who had eihausted his topics of per-

THE TALISXAIT. 257

suasion, arose and left the tent, with folded arma, and in
melancholy deeper than he thought the occasion merited
' — even angry with himself to find that so simple a matter
Its the death of a Scottish man could a&ect him eo nearly.
"Yet," as he said to himself, "though ihe rough-footed
knaves be our enemies in Cumberland, in Palestine ona
almost considers them as brethren."

WAVEFLEY I

CHAPTER S.YL

The high-bora Bereogana, daughter of Sanchez, King
of Navarre, and the Queen-Consort of the heroic Richard,
was accounted one of the most beautiful womeo of the
period. Her form was slight, though exquisitely moulded.
She was graced with a complexion not common in her
country, a profusion of fair hair, and features so extremely
juvenile, as to make her look several years younger Uian
she really was, though in reality she was not above one-
and-twenty. Perhaps it was under the consciousness of
this extremely juvenile appearance, that she affected, or
at least practised, a. little childish petulance, and wilful-
ness of manner, not unbefitting, she might suppose, a
youthful bride, whose rank and age gave her a right to
have her fantasies indulged and attended to. She was by
nature perfectly good-humoured, and if her due share of
admiration and homage (in her opinion a very large one)
was duly resigned to her, no one could possess better
temper, or a more friendly disposition; but then, like all
despots, the more power that was voluntarily yielded to
her, the more she desired to extend her sway. Some-
limes, even when all her ambition was gratified, she chose

THE TALISUAN. 259

to ba a little out of health, and a. little out of spirits ; and
physiciana had lo toil their wits to invent names for imag-
inary maladies, while her ladies racked (heir imagination
for new games, new headgear, and new court-scandal, lo
pass away those unpleasant hours, during which their
own flituation was scarce to be greatly envied. Their
most frequent reaource for direrting this malady was
Bome trick or piece of mischief, practised upon each
other; and the good Queen, io the buoyancy of her re-
viving spirits, was, to speak truth, rather too indifferent
whether the frolics thus practised were entirely befitting
her own dignity, or whether the pain which those suffered
upon whom they were inflicted, was not beyond the pro-
portion of pleasure which she herself derived fi-om them.
She was confident in her husband's favour, in her high
rack, and in her supposed power to make good whatever
such pranks might cost others. In a word, she gambolled
with the freedom of a yoaog lioness, who is unconscious
of the weight of her own pawa when laid on those vrhom
she sports with.

The Queen Berengaria loved her husband passionately,
but she feared the loftiness and roughness of his character,
aad as she felt herself not Co he his match in intellect,
was not much pleased to see that he would often talk with
Edith Plantagenet in preference to herself, simply because
he found more amusement in her conversation, a more
coniprehensive understanding, and a more noble cast of
thoughts and sentiments, than his beautiful consort eshib-
ited. Berengaria did not hate Edith on this account,
far less meditate her any harm : for, allowing for some
selfiahnesa, her character was, on the whole, innocent and
generous. But the ladies of her train, aharp-sighted in
Buch matters, had for some time discovered, that a

L ^

860

WAVBHLEY NOVELS.

poignant jest at the expense of the Lady EJith was a
specific for relieving her Grace of England's !ow spirits,
and the discovery saved their imagination much toil.

Thei-e was something ungenerous io this, because the
Ladj Edith was undersiooil to be an orphan ; and though j
ehe was called Plantagenet, and the Fair Maid of Anjou,
and admitted by Richard to certain privileges only
granted to the royal family, and held her place in the
circle accordingly, yet few knew, and none acquainted
with the Court of England ventured to ask, in what
exact degree of relationship she slood to C(Bur de Lion.
She had come with Eleanor, the celebrated Queen Mother
of England, and joined Kichard at Messina, as one of Ihe
ladies destined to attend on Berengaria, whose nuptials
then approached. Eichard treated his kinswoman with
much respectful observance, and the Queen made her her 1
most constant altendanl, and, even in despite of the petty (
jealousy which we have observed, treated Ler, generally, I
with suitable respect.

The ladies of the household had, for a long time,
farther advantage over Edith, than might be afforded by
an opportunity of censm-iiig d. less artfully disposed head
attire, or an uobecoaiiiig robe ; for the lady was judged
to he inferior in these mysteries. The silent devotion
the Scottish Knight did not, indeed, pass unnoticed ; his
liveries, his cognizances, his feats of arms, his mottoes and
devices, were nearly watched, and occasionally made the
subject of a passing jest. But then came the pilgrimage '
of the Queen and her ladies to Engaddi, a journey which
the Queen bad undertaken under a vow for the recoveiy
of her husband's health, and which she had been en-
couraged to carry into effect by the Archbishop of Tyre
for a political purpose. It was then, and in the chapel at

261

that holj pIucG, connected from above with a Carmelite
numiery, from beneath with the cell of the anchorite, Ihat
one of the Queen's attendants remarked tliat secri't sign
of intelligence which Edith had made to her lover, and
failed not instantly to communicate it to her Majesty.
The Queen returned from her pilgrimage enriched with
this admirable recipe against dulness or ennui, and her
tmin was at the same time augmented by a present of
two wretched dwarfs from the dethroned Queen of
Jerusalem, as deformed and as crazy (the excellence of
that unhappy species) as any Queen could have desired.
One of Berengaria's idle amusements had been to try the
effect of the sudden appearance of such ghastly and fan-
tastic forms on the nerves of the Knight when left alone
in the chapel; but the jest had been lost by the corapo-
Bure of the Scot, and the interference of the anchoi'ile.
She had now tried another, of which the consequence
promised to be more serious.

The ladies again met after Sir Kenneth had retired
from the tent ; and the Queen, at first little moved by
Edith's angry exposlulations, only replied to her by up-
braiding her prudery, and by indulging her wit at the
expense of the garb, nation, and above all, the poverty,
of the Knight of the Leopard, in which she displayed a
good deal of playful malice, mingled with some humour,
until Edith was compelled to carry her anxiety to her
separate apartment. But when, in the morning, a female
■whom Edith had intrusted to make inquiry, brought word
that the Standard was missing, and its champion vanished,
she burst into the Queen's apartment, and implored her
to rise and proceed to the King's tent without delay, and
use her powerful mediation to prevent the evil con£&-
quences of her jest.

262

WAVUKLET KO'

The Queea, frightened in liev turn, cast, as is usual.
I^e blame of her own folly on those around her, and en-
deavoured to comfort Edith's grief, and appease her dis-
pleasure, hj a thousand inconsistent arguments. She was
Bare no harm had chanced — the knight was sleeping, she
fancied, after his night-watch. What though, for fear of
the King's displeasure, he had deserted with the standard
— it was but a piece of silk, and he hut a needy adven-
turer— or if he was put under warding for a time, she
would soon get the King to pardon him — it was but wait-
ing to let Richard's mood pass away.

Thus she continued talking thick and fast, and heaping
together all aorta of inconsislenciea, with the vain expec-
tation of persuading both Edith and herself (hat no harm
could come of a frolic, which in her heart she now bit-
terly repented. But while Edith in vain strove to inter-
cept this torrent of idle talk, she caught the eye of one
of the Indies who entered the Queen's apartment. There
waa death in her look of afiright and horror, and Kdith,
at the fii^t glance of her countenance, had sunk at once
on the earth had not strong necessity, and her own eleva-
tion of character, enabled her to maintain at least exter-
nal composure.

" Madam," she said to the Queen, " lose not another
word in speaking, but save life — if, indeed," ahe added,
her vwce choking as she said it, "life may yet be saved."

"It may — ie may," anawered the Lady Calista. "I
have jurtt beard that be has been brought before the
King — it is not yet over — but," she added, bursting into
a vehement flood of weeping, in which personal appre-
hensions had some share — " it will soon — unless Bonis
course be laken."

"I will vow a golden candlestick to the Holy Sepiil-

chre — a shrine of silver to our Lady of Engadili — a pnll,
worlh one hundi'ed bezMuls, to Saint Thomas of Orthez,"
said I he Queen in extremity.

" Up, up, madam ! " said Edith ; " call on the saints if
yon list, bnt be your own best saint."

" Indeed, madam," said the terrified attendant, " t!ie
Lady Edith epeaks truth. Up, madam, and let us to
King Richard's tont, and beg the poor gentleman's life."

" I wil! go — I will go instantly," said the Queen, rising
and trembling excessively ; while her women, in as great
confu:^ion as herself, were unable to render her those du-
ties which were indispensable to her levee. Calm, com-
posed, only pale as death, Edith ministered to the Queen
with her own baud, and alone suppUed the deficiencies of
her numerous attendants.

" How you wait, wenches I " said the Queen, not able
even then to forget frivolous distinctions. " Suffer ye the
Lady Edith to do the duties of your attendance ? — See'st
thou, Edith, they can do nothing — I shall never be attired
in time. We will send foi; the Archbishop of Tyre, and
employ him as a mediator."

" Oh, no, no ! " exclaimed Edith — " Go yonrself, madam
— you have done the evil, do you confer the'remedy."

" I will go— I will go," said the Queen ; " but it" Rich-
ard be in his mood, I dare not speak to him — he will kill
me!"

"Yet go, gracious madam," said the Lady Cahsta, who
best knew her mistreas'B temper ; " not a. lion, in his fury,
could look upon such a face and form, and retain so much
as an angry thought — far less a love-true knight like the
royal Richard, to whom your slightest word would be a

"Ah,

" Dost thou think so, Calbta ? " said the Que

2G4 WAVEKLET NOVELS.

thou little knoivest — yet I will go — But see you here —
what means this ? You have bedizened me in green, a
colour he detests. Lo you ! let me have a blue robe, and
— search for the ruby carcanet, which waa pai-t of the
King of Cyprus's ransom — it is either in the steel-casket,
or somewhere else."

" This, and a man's life at stake I " said Edith, indig-
nantly ; "it passes human patience. R«raain at your
ease, madam, I will go to King Richard— I am a party
interested — I will know if the honour of a poor maiden
of bis blood is jo be eo far tampered with, that her name
shall be abused to train a brave gentleman from his duty,
bring bim within the compass of dealh and infamy, and
make, at the same time, the glory of Englacd a laughing-
stock to the whole Christian army,"

At this uneipected burst of passion, Eerengaria lis-
tened with an almost stupefied look of fear and woader.
But as Edith was about to leave the tent, she exclaimed,
though faintly, " Stop her — stop her."

" You must, indeed, stop, noble Lady Edith," said Ca-
lisla, taking her arm gently ; " and you, royal madam, I
am sure, will go, and without farther dallying. If the
Lady Edith goes alone to the King, he will bo dreadfully
incensed, nor will it be one life that will stay his fury."

" I will go — I will go," said the Queen, yielding to
necessity ; and Edith reluctantly halted lo wait her move-

They were now as speedy as she could have desired.
The Queen hastily wrapped herself in B large loose man-
tle, which covered all inaccuracies of the toilet. In this
guise, attended by Edilli and her women, and preceded
and followed by a few officers and men-at-arms, she has-
tened to the tent of her liou-like husband.

The enfrance of Qneen Berengarla into the interior
of Richard's pnyilion was wilhatood — in the most respect-
ful and reirerential manner indeed — but still withstood, by
the chamberlains who watched in the outer tent. She
could hear the stem command of the King from within,
prohibiting their entrance.

"You see," said the Queen, appealing to Edith, as if
she had exhausted all means of intercession in her power
— " I knew it — the King will not receive us."

At the same time, they heard Richard speak to some
one within — " Go, speed thine office quickly, sirrah — for
in that consists thy mercy — ten bezajita if thou deal'st on
him at one blow. — And, hark thee, villain, observe if his
cheek loses colour, or his eye fallers — mark me the small-
est twitch of the features, or wink of the eyelid — I love
to know how brave souls meet death."

"If he sees my blade waved aloft without shrinking,
he is the first ever did so," answered a harsh deep voice,

TTAVEELET SOrBLS.

F unusual awe had softened ioto a sound

uaual coarse loaes.

in silent no longer. "If your Grace,"
in, " make not your own way, I make

for your Majesty, for myself, at least

wliich a sense of u
much lower than it

Edith could rem:
she said to the Qu(
it for you ; or if no
— Cbamberlaiiis, the Queen demands to see King Kicli-
" ard — the wife to speak with her husband."

" Noble lady," said the officer, lowering his wand of
office, " it grieves me to gainsay you ; but his Majesty is
busied on matters of life and death."

"And we seek also to speak with him on matters of life
and death," said Edith. — " I will make entrance for your
Grace." — And putting aside the chamberlain with one
hand, she laid hold on the curtain with the other.

" I dare not gainsay her Majesty's pleasure," aaid the
chamberlain, yielding to the veheraence of the fair peti-
tioner ; and as he gave way, the Queen found herself
obliged to enter the apartment of Richard.

The Monarch was lying on his couch, and at some dis-
tance, as awaiting his farther commands, stood a man
whose profession it was not difficult to conjecture. He
was clothed in a jerkin of red cloth, which reached scantty
below the shoulders, leaving the arms bare &om about
half-way above the elbow, and, as an upper garment, he
wore, when about as at present to betake himself to his
dreadful office, a coat or tabard without sleeves, aome-
thing like that of a herald, made of dressed bull's hide,
and stained in the front with ma^y a broad spot and
speckle of dull crimson. The jerkin, and Ihe tabard over
it, reached the knee, and the nether Slocks, or covering
of the legs, were of the same leather which composed tlie
tabard- A cap of rough shag served to hide the upper
part of a visage, which, like that of a screech-owl, seemed

I

i

THE TALISMAIf.

267

deairous to conceal itself from light — the lower pari of the
face being obscured by a hugK red beard, mingling with
shaggy locks of the eame colour. What features were
seen were item and misanthropical. Tliii man's figure
was short, strongly made, with a neck like a bull, very
broad shoulders, arms of great and difiproportioned length,
a huge square trunk, and thick bandy legs. Tiiis trucu-
lent official leant on a sword, the blade of which was
nearly tour feet and a half in length, while the handle of
twenty inches, surrounded by a ring of lead plummets to
counterpoise the weight of such a blade, rose considerably
above the man's head, as he rested hia arm upon its hjlt,
waiting for King Richard's farther directions.

On ihe sudden entrance of Ike ladles, Eichai-d, who
was then lying oa hia couch, with his face towards ihe
entrance, and resting on bis elbow as he spoke to his
grisly attendant, flung himself hastily, as if displeased and
surprised, to Ihe other side, turning hts back to the Queen
and the females of Jier train, and drawing around him the
covering of his couch, which, by hia own choice, or more
probably the flattering selection of his chamberlains, con-
sisted of two large lions' skins, dressed in Venice with
Euch admirable skill that they seemed softer than the
hide of the deer.

Bcrcngaria, such as we have described her, knew well
■^what woman knows not ?^ — ^her own road to vietoty.
After a hurried glanc< of undisguised and unaffected
terror at the ghastly companion of her husband's secret
counsels, she rushed at once to the side of Eicbard's
couch, dropped on her knees, flung her mantle from her
shoulders, showing, as they hung down at Cbcir full length,
her beautiRil golden tresses, and while her countenance
seemed like a sun bursting through a cloud, yet beanng

2G8

IVAVEKLEY K0VEL8.

on ils pallid front traces that its splendours hnve been
obscured, she seized upon the right hand of tlie King,
which, 33 he assumed his wonted posture, had been em-
ployed in dragging the covering of his couch, and grad-
ually pulling it to her with a force which was resisted,
though but faintly, she possessed herself of that arm, the
prop of Christendorn, and the dread of Heathenesse, and
imprisoning its strength in both her little fairy hands, she
bent upon it her brow, and united it to her lips.

" What needs this, Berengaria ? " said Richard, his
head sliU averted, but his hand remaining under her
control.

" Send away that man — his look killa me ! " muttered
Berengaria.

" Begone, sirrah," said Richard, still without looking
round. "What wait!st thou for? art thou fit to look on
these ladies ? "

" Tour Highness'a pleasure touching the head," said
the man.

" Out with (tee, dog I " answered Richard — " a Chris-
tian burial ! "

The man disappeared, after casting a look upon the
beautiful Queen, in her deranged dress and natural love-
liness, with a smile of admiration more hideous in its
expression than even bis usual scowl of cynical hatred
against humanity.

" And now, foolish wench, what wishest thon ? " said
Richard, turning slowly and half reluctantly round to big
i-oyal suppliant.

But it was not in nature for any one, far less an ad-
mirer of beauty like Richard, to whom it stood only in
the second rank to glory, to look without emotion on tlin
countenance and the tremor of a creature so beautiful

TH8 T4118«AH.

as Berengaria, or to feel, witliout sympathy, tliat lier

I, her brow, i

I hLa hand, and that

by her teara. By degreos he turned on her his manly
countenance, with the softest expression of which hts
I^rge blue eye, which so often gleamed with insufferable
light, was capable. Caressing her fair head, and mingling
hia large fingers in her beautiful and dishevelled locks, be
raised and tenderly kissed the cherub countenance which
seemed desirous (o hide itself io his hand. The robust
form, the broad, noble brow, and majestic looks, the
naked arm and shoulder, the lions' skins among which
he lay, and the fair fragile feminine creature that kneeled
by his side, might have served for a model of Her-
cules reconciling himself, after a quarrel, to his wife
Dejanira.

" And, once more, what seeks the lady of my heart
in her knight's pavilion, at this early and unwonted
hour ? "

" Pardon, my most gracious liege, pardon," said the
Queen, whose fears began again to unfit her for the duty
of intercessor.

" Pardon ! for what ? " said the King.

"First, for entering your royal presence loo boldly and
unadvisedly "

She stopped.

" T%ou too boldly ! — the sun might as well ask pardon,
because his rays entered the windows of some wretch's
dungeon. But I was busied with work unfit for thee to
witness, my gentle one, and I was unwilling, besides, that
thou shouldst risk thy precious health where sickness has
been so lately rife."

" But thou art now well ? " said the Queen, still delay-
ing the communicBtion which she feared to make.

5)70 WATEHLEr

" "Well enough to break a lance on (lie boH crest of tbal
cliampion who shall refuse to acknowledge thee the fairest
dame in Chrislendom."

" Tliou wilt not then refuse me one boon — only one —
only a poor life?"

" Ila ! — proceed," said King Kichard, bending his

" This unhappy Scottish knight" — said the Queen.

" Speak not of liim, madam," said Richard, sternly ;
" he dies — his doom is fixed."

" Nny, my royal liege and love, 'tis but a silken banner
neglected — Berengaria will give ihee another broidered
with her own hand, and rich as ever dallied with the
wind. Every pearl I have shall go to bedeck it, and
with every pearl I will drop a tear of (liankfulneas to ray
generous knight."

'' Thou know'st not what thou say'st," said the King,
interrupting her in anger — " Pearls ! can al! the pearls
of the Eiist alone for a speck upon England's honour —
all the tears that ever woman's eye wept wash away a
Btain on Richard's fame? — Go to, madam, know your
place, and your time, and your sphere. At present we
have duties in which you cannot be our partner."

" Thou hear'st, Edith," whispered the Queen, " we
shall but incense Lim."

" Be it so," said Edith, stepping forward. — " My lord
— I, your poor kinswoman, crave you for justice rather
than mercy ; and, to the ciy of justice, the ears of a
monarch should be open at evei-y time, place, and cir-
cumstance."

" Ha ! our cousin Edilh ? " said Richard, rising and
sitticg upright on the side of his couch, covered with bis
'ong camiscia — " She speaks ever kinglike, and king-

THK T^LIBKAH.

m

rorthy

like will 1 aiiswer her, so elie bring no request u
hersolf or me."

The beauty of Edith was of a more intellectual and
less voluptuous cast iban tliat of the Queen ; but impa-
tience and anxiety had given ber countenance a glow,
which it sometimes wanted, and her mien had a character
of energetic dignity lliat imposed silence for a moment
even on Gichard himself, who, to judge by his looks,
would willingly liave interrupted her.

" My lord," she said, " this good knight, whose blood
you ai'e about to spill, hath done, in his time, aervice to
Christendom. He hath fallen from his duty, through a
anare set for him in mere folly and idlenesa of spirit. A
message sent to him in the name of one who— why should
I not speak it ? — it was in my own — induced him for an
instant to leave his post — And what knight in the Chris-
tian camp might not have thus far transgressed at com-
mand of a maiden, who, poor howsoever in other quali-
ties, halh yet the blood of Plantagenet in her veins ? "

"And you saw him, then, cousin ? " replied the Eng
biting his lips, to keep down his pnssion.

" I did, my liege," said Editli. " It is no time to ex-
plain wherefore — I am here neither to exculpate myself
nor to blame others."

"And where did you do him such a grace ? "

" In the tent of her Majesty the Queen."

"Of our royal consort 1" said Richard. "Wow by
Heaven, by Saint George of England, and every other
saint that treads its crystal floor, this is too audacious I I
have noticed and overlooked this warrior's insolent ad-
mii'alion of one so far above him, and I grudged him
not that one of my blood should shed fram her high-born
sphere such influence as the sun bestows on the world

S78 WAVERLET HOVEI.S.

beneath — But, heaven and earth! that you should have
admitted him to an audience hy night, in the very tent
of our royal consort! — and dare to offer this as an excuse
for his disobedience and desertion ! By my father's soul,
Edith, thou siialt rue tliis thy life-long ia a monastery ! "

"My liege," said Edith, "your greatness licenses
tyranny. My honour. Lord King, is as little touched as
yours, and my Lady the Queen can prove it if ahe think
fit. — But I have already said, I am not here to excuse
myself or inculpate others— I aslt you hut to extend to
one, whose fault was committed under strong temptation,
that mercy which ecen you yourself, Lord King, must one
day supplicate at a higher tribunal, and for faults, perhaps,
less venial."

"Can this be Edith Plantagenet ? " said the Kmg,
bitterly. — " Edith Plantagenet, the wise and the noble ?
— Or ia it some lovesick woman, who cares not for her
own fame in comparison of the life of her paramour?
Now, by King Henry's soul! little hinders but I order
thy minion's skull to he brought from the gibbet, and
fixed as a perpetual ornament by the crucifix in thy
cell!"

"And if thou dost send it from the gibbet to be placed
for ever in my sight," said Edith, "I will say it is a relic
of a good knight, cruelly and unworthily done to death by "
— (she checked herself) — " by one, of whom I shall only
say, he should have known better how to reward chivalry.
— Minion, call'st thou him ? " she continued with increas-
ing vehemence, — " He was indeed my lover, and a most
true one — but never sought he grace from mc by look or
word — contented with, such humble observance as men
pay to the saints — And the good — the valiant — the faith-
ful, must die for this ! "

273

" Ob, peace, peace, for pity's sake," whispered tlie
Queen, " jou do but offend him more !"

" I care not," said Edith ; " the spotless virgin fears not
the raging Uon. Let him work his will on this worthy
knight. Edith, for whom he dies, will know how lo
weep his memory — to me no one shall speak more of
politic alliances, to be sanctioned with this jioor hand, 1
could not — I would not — have been his bride living — -
our degrees were too distant. But death unites the high
and the low — I am henceforward the spouse of the

The King was about to answer with much anger, when
a Carmelite monk entered the apartment hastily, his
head and person muffled in the long mantle and hood of
striped cloth of the coarsest texture, which distinguished
his order, and, flinging himself on his knees before the
King, conjured him, by every holy word and sign, to atop
the execution.

" Now, by both aword and sceptre ! " said Kichard,
" the world are leagued to drive me mad I — fools, women,
and monks, crosB me at every step. How comes he to
live still ? "

"My gracious liege," said the monk, " I entreated of
the Lord of Gilsland to stay the execution until 1 had
thrown myself at your royal "

"And he was wilful enough (o grant thy request," said
the Eng ; " but it is of a piece with his wonted obstinacy
— And what is it thou hast to say ? Speak, in the fiend's

" My lord, there is a weighty secret — but it resla under
the seal of confession — I dare not tell or even whisper it
— but I swear to thee by my holy order — by the habit
which I wear — by the blessed Ellas, our founder, even

274

WATEBLET NOVEtS.

hira who was iranslated without suffering the ordinnrj'
pangs of morfniify — that this youth hath divulged to mo
a secret, which, if I might confide it to thee, would utterly
turn thee from thy hloody purpose in regard to him."

" Good father," said Kiehard, " that I reyerence tha
church, let the arras which I now wear for her sake bear
witness. Give me to know this secret, and I will do
what shall seem fitting in the matter. But I am no blind
Bayard, to lake a leap in the dark under the stroke of a
pair of priestly spurs."

" My lord," said the holy man, throwing back his cowl
and upper vesture, and diacovering under the latter a
garment of goal-skin, and from beneath the former a
visage so wildly wasted by chmate, fast, and penance, aa
to resemble rather the apparition of an animated skeleton
than a human face, "for twenty years have I macerated
this miserable body in the eaverng of Engaddi, doing
penance for a great crime. Think you I, who am dead
to the worid, would contrive a falsehood to endanger my
own soul, or that one, bound by the most sacred oaths to
the contrary — one such as I, who have but one longing
wish connected with earth, to wit, the rebuilding of our
Christian Zion, — would betray the secrets of the confes-
sional? Both are alike abhorrent to my very souL"

" So," answered the King, " thou art that hermit of
whom men speak so much ? Thou art, 1 confess, like
enough to those spirits which walk in dry places, but
Kiehard fears no hobgoblins — and thou art he, too, aa I
bethink me, to whom the Christian princes sent this very
criminal to open a communication with the Soldan, even
while I, who ought to have been first consulted, lay on
my sick-bed? Thou and they may content themselves — I
will not put my neck into the loop of a Canuelite's girdla

! yiha had just

TBI! lAXisuAjr. 27A

—And, for your envoy, he shall die, tlie rather and the
Booner liat thou dost entreat for him."

" Now God be graciou.i to thee, Lord King ! " said the
Lermit, with much emotion ; " thou art setting that mis-
cLief on foot which thou wilt hereafter wish thou hadst
etopt tbongh it bad cost tbee a limb. Kash, blioded man,
yet forbear ! "

"Away, away," said the King, Btamping ; " the sun
has risen on the disbonour of England, and it ie not yet
avenged.— Ladies and priest, withdraw, if ye would not
hear orders which would displease you ; for, by 8l

" Swear NOT ! " said the voii
then entered the pavilion.

"Ha! my learned Hakim," said the King; "come, I
hope, to tax our generosity."

" I come to request instant speech with yoa — instant —
and touching matters of deep interest."

"First look on my wife,.Hakim, and let her know in
you the preserver of her husband."

" It is not for me," said the physician, folding hia arms
with an air of Oriental modesty and reverence, and bend-
ing his eyes on the ground,^ — •" It is not for me lo look
upon beauty unveiled, and armed in its splendours."

" Eetire, then, Berengaria," said the Monarch ; " and
Edith, do you retire also; — nay, renew not your impor-
tunities ! This I give to them, that the execution shall not
be till high noon. — Go, and be pacified — dearest Beren-
garia, begone. — Edith," he added, with a glance which
struck terror even info the courageous soul of his kins-
woman, "go, if you are wise,"

The females withdrew, or rather hurried from the lent,
rank and ceremony forgotten, much like a flock of wild

276 ■WAVBBLET HOTELS.

fowl huddied together, against whom the falcon has mada
a recent stoop.

They returned from thence to the Queen's paTilion, to
indulge in regrets and recriminations, eqnally unavailiog.
Edith was the only one who seemed to disdain these
ordinary channels of sorrow. Without a sigh, without a
tear, without a word of upbraiding, she attended upon the
Queen, whose weak temperament showed her sorrow in
violent hysterical ecstasies, and passionate hypochondria'
cal effusions, in the course of which Edith seduloasly,
and even affectionately, attended her.

"It is impossible she can have loved this knight," said
Florise to Calisla, her senior in attendance upon the
Queen's person. " We have been mistaken ; she ia but
sorry for his fate, as for a stranger who has come to
trouble on her account."

" Hush, hush," answered her more experienced and
more observant comrade ; " she is of that proud house of
Piantagenet, who never own that a hurt grieves them.
While they have themselves been bleeding to death,
under a mortal wound, they have been known to bind up
the scratches sustained by their more fainthearted com-
rades.— Florise, we have done frightfully wrong ; and,
for my own part, I would buy with every jewel I have,
that our fatal jest had remained unacted."

TBB TALISMAK.

CHAPTER XVin,

b plmnebuy lateUlgeaa
I and bhoH great iplrlM
leal. IC uks grvkt flbufu
m Uu (Hiding ot tbdr ipbtna,

k

The hermit followed the ladies from the paviHon of
Bichard, as shadow follows a beam of sunshine when Ihe
clouds are driving over the face of the sun. But he
turned OQ the Ihreahold, and held up bia hand towards
the King in a wamiDg, or almost a menacing posture, aa
he said, " Woe to him who rejects the counsel of the
Church, and hetakelh himself to the foul divan of the in-
fidel ! King Richard, I do not yet ehake the dust from
my feet and depart from thy encampiaenl — the sword
falls not — but it hangs but by a hair. — Haughty monai-ch,
■we shall meet again."

" Be it so, haughty priest," returned Richard, "prouder
in thy goat-skins than princes in purple and fine

The hermit vanished from the tent, and the King con-
tinued, addressing the Arabian, — " Do the dervises of
the East, wise Hakim, use such familiarity wiUi theii
princes ? "

" The dervise," replied Adonhec, " should be eitlier a
sage or a madman ; there b no middle oonrse for him

378

WAYBRIKT H0TKL8.

wlio iveara the khirkhah,* who watches by night, and
fasts by day. Hence, hath he cither wisdom enough to
bear himself discreetly in the presence of princes, or else,
having no reason bestowed on him, he is not responsible
for his own actions."

" Melhinha our monks have adopted chiefly the latter
character," said Richard — " But to the matter, — In what
can I pleasure you, my learned physician ? "

" Great King," said El Hakim, making his profound
Oriental obeisance, "let thy servant speak one word, and
yet live. I would remind thee that thou owest — not to
me, their humble instrument — but to the Inteihgences,
whose benefits I dispense to mortals, a hfe"

"And I warrant me thou wouliist have another in re-
quital, ha ? " interrupted the King.

" Such is my humble prayer," said the Hakira, " lo the
great Melech Ric — even the life of this good knight, who
is doomed lo die, and but for such fault as was committed
by the Sultan Adam, aumaraed Aboulbeschar, or (he
father of all men."

"And thy wisdom might remind (hee, Hakim, that
Adam died for it," said ihe King, somewhat sternly, and
then begiin to pace the narrow space of his tent with
some emotion, and to talk to himself. ""Why, God-a-
mercy — I knew what he desired as soon as ever he
entered the pavilion ! — Here is one poor life justly con-
demned to extincljon, and I, a king and a soldier, who
have slain thousands by my command, and scores with
my own hand, am to have no power over it, although the
honour of my arms, of my house, of my very Queen,
bath been otlalnted by the culprit — By Saint George, it
makes me laugh ! — By Saint Louis, it reminds me of

• LitorBlly, tlie torn tcbo. Ths habit of the dervises is so oallwl.

279

Blondul's tale of nn enchanted cattle, where the destined
knight was withstood successively in his purjiose of en-
tnince by forms a.nd figures the most dissimilar, but
all hostile to his undertaking! l^o sooner ooe sunk
than another appeared I — Wife — Kinswoman — Hermit —
Hakim — eaeh appears in the lists aa soon as the other ia
defeated I — Why, this is a. single knight fighting against
the whole melee of the tournament — ha! ha! ha!" —
And Richard laughed aloud ; for he had, in fact, begun
to change his mood, his resentment being usually loo
violent to be of long endurance.

The physician meanwhile looked on him with a coun-
tenance of surprise, not unmingled with contempt; for
the Ea.=terD people make no allowance for those mer*
curia! changea in the temper, and consider open laughter,
upon almost any account, as derogatory to the dignity of
man, and be<;oming only to women and children. At
length the sage addressed the King, when he saw him
more composed.

" A doom of death should not issue from laughing lips.
— Let thy servant hope that thou liast granted Lira this
man's life."

" Take the freedom of a thousand captives instead,"
said Richai'd ; " restore so many of thy countrymen to
their tents and families, and I will give the warrant in-
stantly. Tills man's life can avail thee nothing, and it is
forfeited."

" All our lives are forfeited," said the Hakim, putting
his hand to his cap. " But the great Creditor is mer-
ciful, and exacts not the pledge rigorously nor un-
timely."

'' Thou canst show me," said Richard, " no special in-
terest thou boat to become intercessor betwixt me and the

380 WATBRI.ET HOTELB.

execution of justice, to wliich I am sworn as a crowned
ting."

" Thou art sworn to the dealing forth mercy aa well as
justice," said El Hakim; "but what thou seekest, great
King, is the execution of thine own will. And, for the
concern I have in this I'equest, know that many a man's
life depends upon thy granting this boon."

".Explain thy words," said Richard j "but think not
to impose upon me by false pretexts,"

" Be it far from thy servant ! " said Adonbec. " Know,
then, that the medicine to which thou, Sir King, and
many one beside, owe their recovery, is a. talisman, com-
posed under certain aspects of the heavens, when the
Divine Intelligences are most propitious. I am hut the
poor administrator of its virtues, 1 dip it in a cup of
water, observe the fitting hour to administer it to the
patient, and the potency of the draught works the cure.

" A most rare medicine," said the King, " and a com-
modious I and, as it may be carried in the leech's purse,
would save the whole caravan of camels which they
require to convey drugs and physic-stuff — I marvel there
is any other in use."

"It is written," answered the Hakim, with imper-
turljable gravity, "'abuse not the steed which hath bomo
thee from the battle.' Know, that such talismans might
indeed be framed, but rare has been the number of
adepts who have dared to undertake the application of
their virtue. Severe restrictions, painful observances,
fasLs, and penance, are necessary on the part of the sage
who uses this mode of cure ; and if^ through neglect of
these preparations, by his love of ease, or his indulgence
of sensual appetite, he omits to cure at least twelve
persons wilhin the course of each moon, the virtue of the

THE TAIISUAK.

281

divine gift departs from llie amulel, and bolh tlie last
patient and the pliysiclan will be exposed to speedy mis-
fortune, neither will they survive the year. I require yet
one life to make up the appointed number."

" Go out into the camp, good Hakim, where thou wilt
find a-many," said the King, "and do not seek to rob my
headsman of his patients ; it ia unbecoming a medieiner
of thine eminence to interfere with the practice of
another.— Besides, I cannot see how deUvering a crim-
inal from the death he deserves, should go to make up
thy lale of miraculous cures."

" Whea thou canst show why a draught of cold water
should have cured thee, when the most precious drugs
failed," said the Hakim, " Ihou may'st reason on the other
mysteries attendant on this matter. For myself, I am
inefficient to the great w(jrk, having this morning touched
an unclean animal. Ask, therefore, no farther quesliona ;
it ia enough that, by sparing this man's life at my request,
you will deliver yourself, great King, and thy servant,
from a great danger."

" Hark thee, Adonbec," replied the King, " I have no
objection that leeches should wrap their words in mist,
and pretend to derive knowledge from the stars ; but
when you hid Richard Plantagenet fear that a danger
will fall upon kirn from some idle omen, or omitted cere-
monial, you speak to no ignorant Saxon, or doling old
woman, who foregoes her purpose because a hare crosses
the path, a raven croaks, or a cat sneezes."

" I cannot hinder your doubt of my words," said Adon-
bec ; " but yet, let my Lord the Kifig grant that trulh is
on the tongue of his servant — will he think it just to
deprive the *orld, and every wretch who may suffer by
die pains which so lately reduced him to that couch, of

. ralher ibu
"oua'po^ criminal '' Bethink
K'J'Oti, Lord KiDg, that ibongh tbmi canet bUjt tl
T tbou canst not require one man lo health. Kid^ ksre
the power of >*?atan to lorment, eage^ that of AIUi to
bea) — bewmre how thou hinderest the good to hntoxniij,
whk-ii ihou canst not thj^elf retuler. Tbou caa^t em off
the head, but not cur« the aching tooth."

** TbU is over inaolent," eaid the Kjng, hardening him-
self, a$ the H^kim adorned a more loifiy, and almcMt ji
commandiDg lone. " We took thee for our leech, not tat
our coanseUor, or oonscience-keeper."

''And ia it thus the most renowned Prince of Fnogu-
tan repays benefit done to his rojs] person ? " said El
Hakim, exchanging the humble and stooping posture, m
which he had hitherto EoUcited the King, for an atdtude
lofty and commanding. " Know, then," he said, " that
through every court of Europe and Asia — to Mo^k-m and
Kazarene — lo knight and lady— wherever harp is heard
and sword worn — wherever honour ia loved and infamy
detested — to every quarter of the world will I denounce
thee, Metech Bic, aa thankless and iingeDerou^ ; and even
the land^ — if there be any such — that never beard of thj
renown, shall yet be acquainted with thy ehame ! "

"Are these terms to me, vile infidel!" said Richard,
striding up to him in fury. — "Art weary of thy life?"

"Strike!" said El Hakim i ■' thine own deed tJiall
then paint thee more worthless than could my words,
though each had an hornet's ating."

Richard turned flAcely from him, folded his arms, trav-
ersed the tent as before, and then exclaimed, " Thanklesa
and ungenerous? — as well be termed coward and infidel 1
■—Hakim, ihou hast cliosen thy boon ; nod though I had

THE TAUSKAK.

rather thou hiiilat asked my crown-jewels, yet I may not,
kinglike, I'efuse lliee. Take tliis Scot, thererore, to thy
keepiug — ths provost will deliver him to thea on this

lie hastily ti-aced one or two lines, and gave tliem to
the physician. " Use him as thy bond-slave, to he dia-
posi'd of as thou wilt — only, let hini beware how he comes
before the eyes of Riehai'd. Hark ihee — thou art wise
■ — he hath been over hold among those m \vhose f^r looks
and weiik judgments we trust our honour, as you of the
Edit lodge your treasures in caskets of silver wire, as fine
and OS trail as the web of a gossamer."

"Thy servant understands the word of the King," said
the sage, at once resuming the reverent style of addresa
in which he had commenced. " When the rich carpet is
Boiled, the fool pointeth lo the stain — the wise man covei'a
it with Lis mantle. I have heard my lord's pleasure, and
to hear is to obey."

" It is well," said the King ; " let him consult his own
safety, and never appear in my presence more. — Is there
aught else in which I may do thee pleasure?"

'^ The bounty of the King haih filled my cup to the
brim," said the sage ; " yea, it Lath been abundant as the
fountain which sjtrung up amid the camp of the descend-
ants of Israel, when the rock was stricken by the rod of
Moussa Ben Amran."

"Ay, but," said the King, smihng, " it required, as in
the desert, a hard blow on the rock ere it yielded its treas-
ures. I would that I knew something to pleasure thee,
which I might yield as freely as the natural fountain
sends forth its waters."

*■ Let me touch that victorious hand," said the sage, " in
token, that if Adonbeo el Hakim should here^er demand

234 WAVEKLEY

a boon of EicLard of England, he may do so, yet plead
im command."

"Thou hast hand and glove upon it, man," replied
Richard ; "only, if thou cooldat consistently make up thy
tale of patients without craving me to deliver from pun-
ishment those who have deserved it, I would more wil-
lingly discharge my debt in some other form."

" May thy days be multiplied! " — answered the Hakim,
and withdrew from the apartment after the usual deep
obeisance.

King Richard gazed after him as he departed, like oae
but balf-Batislied with what had passed.

" Strange pertinacity," he said, " in this Haktra, and a
wonderful chance to interfere between that audacious Scot
and the chastisement he has merited so richly. Yet, let
him live! there is one brave man the more in the world.
— And now for the Auatriaa. — Ho, is the Baroa of Gila-
land there without ? "

Sir Thomas de Vaux thas summoned, his bulky form
speedily darkened the opening of the pavilion, while be-
hind him glided as a spectre unannouoced, yet unopposed,
the savage form of the hermit of Eagaddi, wrapped in
his goat-.skin mantle.

Richai-d, without notidng his presencfi, called in a loud
tone to the Baron, " Sir Thomas de Vaui, of Lanercoat
and Gil^land, take trumpet and herald, and go instantly
(o the tent of him whom they call Archduke of Austria,
and see that it be when the press of hiJkniglits and vas-
sals is greatest around him, — as is hkely at this hour, for
the German boar breakfasts ere he hears mass — enter hia
preseuf^e with as little reverence as thou may'st, and im-
peach him, on the part of Richard of England, that ha
hath this night, by his own hand, or that of others, stolen

S85

from its staff tlio BHnner of England. Wherefore, say
to liim our pleasure, that, within an hour from the time
of my speaking, he restore the said banner with all rev-
erence— he himself and hia principal barons waiting tho
whilst with heads uncovered, and without their robes of
honour, — And that, moreover, he pitch beside it, on tho
one hand, his own Banner of Austria reversed, as that
which hath been dishonoured by theft and felony — and
on the other, a lance, bearing the bloody head of him who
was his nearest counsellor, or assistant, in this base injury
— And say, that such our behests being punctually dis-
charged, we will, for the sake of our tow, and the weal
of thii Holy Land, forgive his other forfeits."

" And how if the Duke of Austria deny all accession to
this act of vtraug and of felony?" said Thomas de Vaua.

" Tell him," replied the King, " we will prove it upon
his body — ay, were he backed with his two bravest cham-
pions. Knighillke will we prove it, on foot or on horse,
in the desert or in the field, time, place, and arms, all at
his own choice."

" Bethink jou of the peace of Giod and the Church,
my liege lord," said the Baron of Gilsland, " among thosa
princes engaged in this holy Crusade."

" Bethink you how to execute my commands, my liega
vassal," answered Richard, impatiently. " Meihinks men
expect to turn our purpose by tiieir breath, as boys blow
feathers to and fro — Peace of the Church ! — who, I
prithee, minds it F The peace of the Church, among
Crusaders, implies war with the Saracens, with whom the
princes have made truce, and the one ends with the other.
And, besides, see you not how every prince of them ia
seeking his own several ends ? — I will seek mine also —
and -that is honour. For honour I came hither, and if I

285 -WATEKLET NOVELS.

may not win it upon the Saracens, at least I will not lose
n jot from any respect to this paltry Duke, though he
were bulwarked aod buttressed by every prince in the
Crusade."

De Vaux turned to obey the King's mandate, shrug-
ging bis shoulders at the same time, the hlnutness of bis
nature being unable to conceal that its tenor went against
liis judgment. But the hermit of Engaddi stepped for-
ward, and assumed the air of one charged with higher
commands than those of a mere earthly potentate. In-
deed, his dress of shaggy skins, his uueombed and un-
trimmed hair and beard, bis lean, wild, and contorted
features, and the almost insane fire which gleamed from
under his bushy eyebrows, made him approach nearly so
our idea of some seer of Scripture, who, charged with
bigh mission to the sinful Kings of Judah or Israel, de-
scended &om the rocks and cayems in which be dwelt in
abstracted solitude, to abash earthly tyrants in the midst of
their pride, by discharging on them the blighting denuncia-
tions of Divine Majesty, even as the cloud- discharges the
lighlnings with which it is fraught, on the pinnacles and
tower.-! of castles and palaces. In the midst of his most
wayward mood, Richai-d respected the Church and its
ministers, and though offended at the inti-usion of the
hermit into his lent, be greeted him with respect ; at the
same time, however, making a sign to Sir Thomas de
Yaux to hasten on his m

But the hermit prohil
and word, to stir a yard 6

up his hare arm, from
back in the violence of h
meagre with famine, and w 1 d
disdpline.

by gesture, look,

nd ; and, holding

go, skin mantle fell

1 waved it aloft,

V h he blows of tho

"In [he name of God, and of the most holy Father, the
vicegerent of ihe Christian Church upon earth, I prohibit
Ihia most profane, bloodthii'sly, and brutal defiance, he-
twist two Christian princes, whose shoulders ure signed
with the blessed raark under which they swore brother-
hood. Woe to him by whom it is brolien I^Eitbard of
England, recall (be most unhallowed message thou hast
given to that baron — Danger and Death are nigh ihee ! —
the dagger is glancing at thy very throat ! "

"Danger and Death are playmates to Richard," an-
swered the monarch proudly ; " and he hath braved too
many swords to fear a dagger."

" Danger and Death are near," replied the seer ; and,
sinking his voice to » hollow, unearihlj tone, be added,
" And after death the judgment ! "

" Good and holy father," said Riiibard, " I reverence
thy person and thy sanctity "

" Reverence not me ! " interrupted the hermit ; '
ence sooner the vilest insect that crawls by the shores
of the Dead Sea, and feeds upon its accursed slime. But
reverence Him whose commands I speak — Reverence
Him whose sepulchre you have vowed lo rencue — Revere
the oath of concord which you have sworn, and break
not the Bilver cord of union and fidelity with which you
have bound yourself to your princely confederates."

" Good father," said the King, " yoii of the church si
to me to presume somewhat, if a layman may say go
much, upon the dignity of your holy character. Without
challenging your right to iJike charge of our conscience,
methinks you might leave us the charge of our own
honour."

" Presume ! " repeated the bcrmil — " is it for me to
presume, royal Richard, who am hut the bell obeying the

258

hand of (he sexton — but the BenseTess and worthless '
trumpet, carrying the commani! of him v
See, OD my knees I throw myself before thee, imploiing
thee to have mercy on Christendom, on England, and on
thyself I"

"Rise, rise," said Richard, compelling him to sland up;
"it beseems not that knees, which are so frequently
bended to the Deity, should press the ground in honour
of man. What danger awaits us, reverend father ! and
when stood the power of England so low, that the noisy
bluster of this new-made Duke's displeasure should alarm
her, or her monarch ? "

" I have looked forth from ray mountiuu turret upon
the alarry host of heaven, as each m his midnight circuit
uttered wisdom to another, and knowledge to the few
who can understand their voice. There sits an enemy in
thy House of Life, Lord King, malign at once to thy
fame, and Ihy prosperity — an emanation of Saturn, men-
acing thee with instant and bloody peril, and which, but-
thou yield thy proud will to the rule of thy duty, wiB
presently crush thee, even in thy pride."

" Away, away — this is heathen science," said the King.
" Christians practise it not — wise men believe it not. —
Old man, thou dotest.?

"I dote not, Richard," answered the hermit — "lam
not so happy. I know my condition, and that some por-
tion of reason is yet permitted me, not for my own use,
but that of the Church, and the advancement of the
Cross, I am the blind man who holds a torch id others,
though it yields no light lo himself. Ask me touching
whal concerns the weal of Christendom, and of this
Crusade, and I will speak with thee as the wisest coun-
eellor on whose tongue persuasion ever sat. Speak to

THK TALIBUAN. 289

me of my own wretched being, and my words shall bo
thosu of the maniac outcast whieh I am."

" I would not break the bands of unity asunder amond
tlie Princea of the Crusade," said Richard, with a mili-
galed lone and manner ; " but what atonement can they
render me for the injustice and insult which I have
sustained ? "

•* Even of that I am prepared and commissioned to
speak by the Council, which, meeting hastily at the sum-
mons of Philip of France, have taken measures for that
effect."

" Strange," replied Kicbard, " that others should treat
of what is due to the wounded. Majesty of England ! "

" They are willing to anticipate your demands, if it be
possible," answei'ed the hermiL " In a body, they con-
sent that the Banner of England be replaced on Saint
George's Mount, and tliey lay under ban and condemna-
tion the audacious criminal, or criminals, by whom it was
ouiraged, and will announce a princely reward to any
who shall denounce the delinquent's guilt, and give his
flesh lo the wolves and ravens."

"And Austria," said Richard — " upon whom rest such
Btrong presumptions that he was the author of the deed?"

"To prevent discord in the host," replied the hermit,
"Austria will clear himself of the suspicion, by submitting
lo whatsoever oi'deal the Patriarch of Jerusalem shall

"Will he clear himself by the trial by combat?" said
King Richard.

" His oatb prohibits it," said the hermit; "and, more-
over, the Council of the Princes"

" Will neither authorize battle against the Saracens,"
interrupted Bichard, "nor against any one else. But

250

WATEELEY NOVELH.

it is enough, fallier — thou hast shown mc the folly of
proceeding as I designed in this matter. You shall
sooner light your torch in a pnddle of rain, than bring a
Hpark out of a colil-blooded coward. There is no honour
to be gained on Austria, and so let hira pass, — I will
have hiin peijate himself, however ; I will insist on the
ordoal, — How I shall laugh to hear his clumsy fingers
hiss, aa he grasps the red-hot globe of iron 1 — Ay, or liia
huge mouth riven, and his gullet swelling to suffocation,
as he endeavours to swallow the consecrated bread ! "

"Peace, Kichard," said the hermit — "Oh, peace, ftw
Bhaiue if not for charity ! Who shall praise or honour
princes, who insult and calumniate each other ? — Alas !
that a creature so noble as thou art — so accomplished in
princely thoughts and princely daring — so fitied to honour
Christendom by tliy actions, and, in thy calmer mood, to
rule her by thy wisdom, should yet have the brute and
wild fury of the lion, mingled with the dignity and cour-
age of that king of the forest I " ,

He remained an instant musing with his eyes fixed on
the ground, and then proceeded—" But Heaven, that
knows our imperfect nature, accepts of our imperfect
obedience, and hath delayed, though not averted, the
bloody end of thy daring life. The destroying angel hath
Btood still, as of old, by the threshing-floor of Araunah the
Jebusite, and the blade is drawn in his hand, by which,
at no distant date, Richard, the hon-heai-ted, shall be as
low as the meanest peasant"

" Must it then be so soon ? " — said Richard. " Tet, even
so be it. May my course be bright, if it be but brief I "

"Alas! noble King," said the solitary, and it seemed
as if a tear (unwonted guest) were gathering in bis dry
and glazened eye — "short and melancholy, marked wilh

DrtiEtatio

and calamity, and captivity,

that divides thee from the grave which jav

is tlie
a for thee

d without lineage to
succeed thee — wiihout the fears of a people, eshau8t«d
by thy ceaseless wars, to lament thee — without having
extended tlie knowledge of thy subjecia — wiihout having
done aught to enlarge their happiness."

" But not without renown, monk — not without the teara
of the lady of my love ! These consolations, which thon
canst neither know nor estimate, await open Richard to
his grave."

" Do I not know — can I not estimate, the value of
minstrel a praise and of lady's love ! " retorled the her-
mit, in a tone which for a moment seemed to emulate
the enihuajasm of Eichard himself. " King of England,"
he contmued, extending his emaciated arm, " the blood
whii h boils in thy blue veins is not more noble than that
which stagnates in mine. Few and eold as tbe drops are,
tbey still are of the blood of tbe royal Luaignan — of the
heroic and sainted Godfrey. I am — that ia, I waa when
in llie world — Alherick Mortemar"- — -

"Whose deeds," said Richard, "have so often filled
Fame's trumpet 1 la it so — can it be so ? — Could such a
light as ibine fall from the horizon of chivalry, and yet
men be uncertain where its embers had alighted?"

" Seek a fallen star," said the hermit, " and thou shalt
only light on some foul jelly, which, in shooting through
the horizon, has assumed for a moment an appearance of
splendour. Richard, if I thought that rending the bloody
veil from my horrible fate could make thy proud heart
sloop to the discipline of the church, I could find in my
heart to tell thee a tale, which I have hitherto kept
gnawing at my vitals in concealment, like the aelf-devoted

392

WATEHLFT NOVELS.

youth of Heathenesse. — Listen, theD, Richard, and may
the grief and despair, which cannot avail this wretched
remnant of what was once a man, be powerful as an ex-
ample to so noble, yet ao wild a being as thou art I Tea
— I will — I loill tear open the long hidden wounds,
aJthough in thy very presence they should bleed to
death ! "

King Richard, upon whom the history of Alberick of
Mortemar bad made a deep impression in his early years,
when minstrels were regaling his father's balls with
legends of the Holy Land, listened with respect to Iha
outlines of a tale, which, darkly and imperfectly sketcfaed^
indicated sufficiently the cause of the partial insanity of
this singular and most unhappy being.

" I need not," he said, " tell tliee that I was noble in
birth, high in fortune, strong in arms, wise in counseL
All these I was ; but while the noblest ladies in Palestine
strove which should wind garlands for my behnet, my
love was fixed — unalterably and devotedly fixed — on a
maiden of low degree. Her father, an ancient soldier of
the Cross, saw our passion, and knowing the difference
betwixt US, saw no other refuge for his daughter's honour
than to place her within the shadow of the cloister. I
returned from a distant expedition, loaded with spoils and
honour, to find my happiness was destroyed for ever! I,
too, sought the cloister, and Satan, who had marked me
for bis own, breathed into my heart a vapour of spiritual
pride, which could only have had its source in his own
infernal regions. I had risen as high in the church as
before in the state — I was, forsooth, the wise, the self-
sufficient, the impeccable ! — I was the counsellor of
councils— I was the director of prelates — how should 1
stumble ? — wherefore should I fear temptation ? — Alas I

r THE TALISMiN. '293

I became tonfessor lo a Bisterliood, and amongi^it thai
Bisterhood I found the long-!oved — the long-loal. Spare
me farther confession 1 — A fallen nun, whose guilt was
avenged by self-murder, aleepa Roundly in the I'aults of
Engaddi, while, above her yerj grave, gibbers, moans,
and roars a creature, to whom hut so much reason is left
as may suffice to render him completely sensible to hia
fate I "

" Unhappy man ! " said Kichard, " I wonder no longer
at thy misery. How didst thou escape the doom, which
the canons denounce against thy offence?"

"Ask one who is yet in the gall of worldly bitterness,"
said the hermit, " and he will speak of a life spared for
personal respects, and from consideration to high birth.
But, Richard, /tell thee, that Providence hath "preserved
me, to lift me on high as a light and beacon, whose ashes,
when this earthiy fuel is burnt out, must yet be flnng into
Tophet, Withered and shrunk as this poor form is, it is yet
animated with two spirits — one active, shrewd, and pierc-
ing, to advocate the cause of the Church of Jerusalem — one
mean, abject, and despairing, fluctuating between madneai)
and misery, to mourn over my own wretchedness, and to
guard holy relics, on which it would be most sinful for
me even to cast my eye. Pity mo not ! — it is but sin to

Lpity the loss of such an abject — pity me not, but profit by
ray example. Thou standest on the highest, and, there-
fore, on the most dangerous pinnacle, occupied by any
Christian prince. Thou art proud of heart, loose of life,
bloody of hand. Put from thee the sins which are to
thee as daughters — though they be dear to the sinful
Adam, expel these adopted furies from thy br.^aat — thy
pride, thy luxury, thy blood-thir:
" He raves," said Richard, turning from the .=olitary tc

294 TVAVERIET NOVELS.

De Vaux, as one who felt some pain from a sarcasm
which yet he could not resent — then turned Lim calmly,
and somewhat scornfully to the anchoret, as he replied —
"Thou hast found a fair hevy of daughlers, reverend
father, to one who hath been but few months married;
but since I must put (hem from my roof, it were but like
a father to provide them with suitable matches. "Where-
fore, I will part with ray pride to the noble Canons of the
Church — my luxury, as thou cail'st it, to the Monks of,
the rule — and ray blood-thirstiness to the Knights of the
Teraple."

" Oh, heart of steel, and hand of iron," said the
anchoret, " upon whom example, as well aa adrice, is
alike thrown away ! — Yet ahalt thou be spared for a
season, in case it so be thou shouldst turn and do that
which is acceptable in the sight of Heaven. — For me, I
must return to my place. — Kyrie Elcison !— I am he
through whom the rays of heavenly grace dart like those
of the son through a burning glass, concentrating them
on other objects, until they kindle and blaze, while
the glass itself remains cold and uninfluenced. — Kyrie
Eieison ! — the poor mnat be called, for the rich have
refused the banquet — Kyrie Eleison ! "

So saying, be burst from the tent, uttering loud cries.

" A mad priest ! " — said Richard, from whose mind the
frantic exclamations of the hermit had partly ob!il«rated
the impression produced by the detail of his personal
history and misfortunes. "After him, De Vaux, and see
he comes to no harm ; for, Crusadei:s as we are, a juggler
hath more reverence amongst our varlets than a priest or
a saint, and they may, perchance, put some scom upon

The knight obeyed, and Eichard presently gave way

THE TAtteaUM.

295

to the thoughts which the wild prophecy of the monk
had inspired. — " To die early — without lineage — without
lumentation ? — a heavy senteoce, and weU that it is not
passed hy a more competent judge. Yet the Saracens,
who are accomplished in mystical knowledge, will ofVen
maintain, that He, in whose eyes the wisdom of the saga
is hut as foliy, inspires wisdom and prophecy into the
seeming folly of the madman. Yonder hermit is said to
read the stars too, an art generally practised in these
lands, where the heavenly host was of yore the object of
idolatry. I would I had asked him touching the toss of
my banner; for not the blessed Tishhite, the founder of
his order, could seem more wildly rapt out of himself, or
speak with a tongue more resembling that of a prophet.
— How now, De Vaax, what news of the mad priest?"

"Mad priesf, call you him, my lord?" answered De
Vaux. " Methinks he resembles more the blessed Bap-
tist himself, just issued from the wilderness. He has
placed himself on one of the military engines, and from
thence he preaches to the soldiers, as never man preached
since (he time of Peter the Hermit, The camp, alarmed
by his cries, crowd around him in thousands ; and break-
ing oiF every now and then from the main thread of his
discourse, he addresses the several nations, each in their
own language, and presses upon each the arguments best
qualified lo urge tiiem to perseverance in tlie delivery of
Palestine."

" By this light, a noble hermit!" said King Richard.
" But what else could come from the blood of Godfrey?
He despair of safety, because he hath in former days
lived par amourg ? I will have the Pope send him an
ample remission, and I would not less willingly he inter*
lessor had his ieSe amie been an abbess."

I

296 "WAVERLET NOVELS.

As he spoke, the Archbishop of Tyre craved audi-
ence, for the purpose of requesting Richard's attendance,
should his health permit, on a secret conclave of the
chiefs of the Crusade, and to explain to hira the military
and political incidents which had occurred during hi^^
illness.

THE TALISMAN; THE TWO DROVERS;

MY AUNT MARGARET'S MIRROR;

THE TAPESTRIED CHAMBER;

THE LAIRD'S JOCK.

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THE TALISMAN.

CHAPTER XIX.

Must we £hen sheathe onr still Tictoriona sword {
Tarn back onr forward step, which ever trode
O'er foemen's necks the onward path of glory;
Unclasp the mail, which with a solemn vow,
In God's own honse, we hnng upon onr shonlders;
That TOW, as nnaccomplish'd as the promise
Which Tillage nurses make to still their children,
And after think no more of 7

Thk CausADE, A Tragtdy,

The Archbishop of Tjre was an emissary well chosen
to communicate to Richard tidings, which from another
voice tte lion-hearted King would not have brooked to
hear, without the most unbounded explosions of resent^
ment. Even this sagacious and reverend prelate found
difficulty in inducing him to listen to news, which de-
stroyed all his hopes of gaining back the Holy Sepulchre
by force of arms, and acquiring the renown, which the
universal all-hail of Christendom was ready to confer
upon him, as the Champion of the Cross.

But, by the Archbishop's report, it appeared that
Saladin was assembling all the force of his hundred
tribes, and that the monarchs of Europe, already dis-
gusted from various motives with the expedition, which

G WATEBLET NOVELS.

had proved so hazardous, and was daily growing iQoro
so, hiid resolved to abandon (heir purpose. In ihia they
were countenanced by the example of Philip of France,
who, with many protestations of regard, and assurances
that he would first see his brother of England in safety,
declared his intention fo return to Europe. His great
vassal, the Earl of Champagne, had adopted the anme
resolution ; and it conld not excite surprise, that Leopold
of Austria, affronted as he had been by Richard, was
glad to embrace an opportutiity of deserting a cause, in
which his haughty opponent was to be considered as
chief. Others announced the same purpose; so that it
was plaio that the King of England was to he left, if he
chose to remain, supported only by such volunteers as
migbt, under sucli depressing circumstances, join them-
selves to the English army ; and by the doubtful aid of
Conrade of Montserrat, and the military orders of the
Temple, and of Saint John, who, though they were
Bwom to wage battle against the Saracens, vrere at least
equally jealous of any European monarch achieving the
conquest of Palestine, where, with shortsighted and
selQsh policy, they proposed to establish independent
dominions of their own.

It needed not many arguments to show Richard the
truth of his situation ; and, indeed, after his first hurst of
passion, he sat him calmly down, and with gloomy looks,
head depressed, and arms folded on his bosom, listened to
the Archbishop's reasoning on the impossibility of bis
carrying on the Crusade when deserted by his compan-
ions. Nay, he forbore interruption, even when the pre-
late ventured, in measured terms, to hint that Ricliard's
own impetuosity had been one main cause of disgusting
the princes with the expedition.

THE TALISHAM. 7

" Confilfor" — ansivered Richard, wil!i a dejected look,
and someiliing of, a melancholy smile ; " I conre:B, rever-
end father, that I ouglit on some accounts to aing cxdpa
mea. But is it not hard that my frailties of temper
should he risiled with such a penance, thnt, for a burst
or tivo of natural [inssion, I should be doomed lo see fade
before me ungalhered such a rich harvest of glory to
God, and honoar lo chivalry ? — But it shall not fade. —
By the soul of the Conqueror, I will plant the Cross
on the towers of Jerusalem, or it sliall be planted over
Kichard'a grave ! "

" Thou niay'st do it," paid the prelate, " yet not another
drop of Christian blood be shed in the quaiTel."

" Ah, you ppeak of compromise, Lord Prelate — but the
blood of the infidel hounds most also cease to flow," said
Riclinrd.

" There will be glory enough," replied the Archbishop,
" in having extorted from Saladin, by force of arms, and
by llie respect inspired by your fame, such conditions, as
at once restore the Holy Sepulchre, open the Holy Land
to pilgrims, secure their safety by strong fortresses, and,
Btronger than all, assure the safety of the Holy City, by
conferring on Richard the title of King Guardian of
Jeruaalem."

" How I " said Richard, his eyes sparkiing with un-
usual light, " I — I — I the King Guardian of tlie Holy
City ! Victory itself, but that it i* victory, could not
gain more — scarce so much, when won with unwilling
and disunited forces. — But Saladin still proposes to retain
his interest in the Holy Land ? '

" As a join

n ally," replied the Pre-

1 Richai'd — bis relative — if it may be
permitted — by marriage,"

3 WAVBBtBT N0TBL9-

" By mari'iiige ! " said Richard, surpriaed, ypt leas m
llian die Prelate had expected, " Ha ! — Ay — Edith
Plantagenet. Did I dream this ? — or did Home one tell
me ? My head is still weak from this fever, and has
been agitated. — Was it the Scot, or the Hakim, or yonder
holy hermit, that hinted such a wild bargain ? "

" The hermit of Engaddi, most likely," said the Arch-
bishop ; " for he hath loiled much in this mntfBr ; and
since the discontent of the princes has become apparent,
and a separation of their forces unavoidable, he hath had
many consultations, both wilh Christian and Pagan, for
arranging such a pacificalioa, as may give to Christen-
dom, at least in part, the objects of this holy warfare."

" My kinswoman to an infidel — Ha ! " exclaimed Rich-
ard, as his eyes began to sparkle.

The Prelate hastened to avert his wrath.

" The Pope's consent must doubtless be first attained,
and tLe holy hermit, who is well known at Rome, will
treat with the Holy Father."

"How? — without our consent first given?" said the
King.

" Surely no," said the Bishop, in a quieting and insin-
uating tone of voice ; " only with and under your especial
sanction."

" My sanction to marry my kinswwnan to an infidel ? "
said Richard ; yet he spoke rather in a (one of doubt than
as distinctly reprobating the measure proposed. " Could
I have dreamed of such a composition when I leaped
upon the Syrian shore from the prow of my galley, even
13 a lion springs on his prey 1 — And now— But proceed
— I will hear with patience."

Equally deligjited and surprised to find his last so
much easier than he had apprehended, the Archbishop

hflitencd to pour forth before Richard the inslaoces of
such alliances in Spain — not without countenance from
the Holy See — Ihe incalculable advaalagea which all
Cbristendom would derive from the union of Eichard and
Saladin, hy a bond so sacred ; and, above all, he epoke
with great vehemence and unction on the probability that
Saladin would, in case of the proposed alliance, exchange
liis false faith for the true one.

" Hath the Soldan shown any disposition to become
Christian ? " said Hir.hard ; " if so, the ting lives not on
earth to whom I. would grant the hand of a kinswoman,
ay, or sister, sooner than to, my noble Saladin — ay, though
the one came to lay crown and sceptre at her feet, and
the other had nothing to offer but his good sword and
better heart I "

" Saladin hath heard our Chris^an teachers," said the
Bishop, somewhat evasively, — " my unworthy self — and
others — and as he listens with patience, and replies with
calmness, it can hardly be but that he be snatched as a
brand from the burning. Magna est verilas, et pravalebil /
Moi'eover, the hermit of Engaddi, few of whose words
have fallen fruitless to the ground, is possessed fully with
the belief that there is a calling of the Saracens and the
other heathen approaching, to which this marriage shall
be matter of induction. He rcadefh tbe course of the
stars i and dwelling, with maceration of the flesh, in those
divine places which the saints have trodden of old, the
spirit of Elijah the Tishbite, the founder of his blessed
order, hath been with him as it was with the prophet
Elisba, the son of Shaphat, when he spread his mantle

King Richard listened to the Prelate's
!t downcast brow and a troubled look.

10

TTATEKLET NOVELS.

" I cannot tell," he said, " how it is wilh me ; but me-
thinks these cold counsels of the Princes of Christendom
have infected me too with a lethargy of spirif. Tiie time
hath been, that, had a layman proposed such alliance to
me, I had struck him to earth — if a churchman, I had
gpit at him as a renegade and priest of Baal — yet now
Ihi^ counsel sounds not so strange in mine ear; for why
should I not seek for brotherhood and alliance with a
Sai-acen, brave, just, generous, — who lovea and honours a
woj-ihy foe, aa if he were a friend, — whilst the Princes
of Christendom shrink from the aide of their alliea, and
forsake the cause of Heaven and good knighthood ? — But
I will possess my patience, and will not think of them.
Only one attempt will I make to keep this gallant broth-
erhood together, if it be possible ; and if I fail, Lord .
Ardibishop, we will apeak together of thy counsel, which,
aa now, I neither accept nor altogether reject. Wend we
to the Council, ray lord— the hour calls us. Thou say'st
Richard is hasty and proud — thou shalt see him humble
himself like (he lowly broom-plant, from which he derives

"With the aasistance of those of his privy chamber, the
King then hastily robed himself in a doublet and mantla
of ft dark and uniform colour ; and without any mark of
regal dignity, excepting a ring of gold upon his head, he
hastened with the Archbishop of Tyre to attend the
Council, which waited but hia presence t<

The pavilion of the Council was an ample tent, having
before it the large Banner of the Cross displayed, and
BDOlhev, on which was portinycJ a female kneeling, with
dishevelled hair and disordered dress, meant to represent
the desolate and distressed Church of Jerujialem, and

THE TALISMAIT.

11

bearing the motfo, Affiictm sponstB ne oUivuearis. "Wai-d-
ers, carefully selected, kept every one at a Jistance from
the neiglibourhood of thia tent, lest the debates, which
were somelinies of a loud and stormy character, should
reach other ears than those they were designed for.

Here, therefore, the Princes of the Ci'usade were
assembled, awaiting Sichard's arrival ; and evea the
brief delay which was thus interposed, was turned to his
disadvantage by his enemies ; various instances being cir-
culated of hia pride, and undue assumption of superiority,
of which evea the necessity of the present short pause
was quoted as an instance. Men strove to fortify each
other in their evil opinion of the King of England, and
vindicated the offence which each had taken, by putting
■ the most severe construction upon circumstances the most
trifling ; and all this, perhaps, because they were con-
scious of an instinctive reverence for the heroic monarch,
which it would require more than ordinary efforts to

L

They had settled, accordingly, that they should receive
him on his entrance with alight notice, and no more respect
than was exactly necessary to keep within the bounds of
cold ceremonial. But when they beheld that noble form,
that princely countenance, somewhat pale from bis late
illness — tlie eye which had been called by minstrels the
bright star of battle and Tictory — when his feat", almost
surpassing human strength and valour, rushed on their
recollection, the Council of Princes simultaneously arose
— even the jealous King of France, and the sullen and
offended Duke of Austria, arose with one consent, and
the assembled princes burst forth with one V
acclamation, " God save King Kicliard of England !-
Long life to the valiant Lion's-heart I "

12 WATF.BI-Ey N0VBL3.

With a couQtenance frank and open aa
when it rise:!, Richard distributed his thanks around, and
congratulated himself on being odcq more among his
royal brethren of the Crusades.

" Some brief words he desired to say," such was hia
address to the assembly, " though on a subject eo unwor-
thy as himself, even at the risk of delaying for a few
minutes their eonsultations for the weal of Christendom,
and the advancement of their holy enterprise."

The assembled princes resumed their seats, and there
was a profound silence.

" This day," continued the King of England, " is a high
festival of the Church ; and well becomes it Christian
men, at such a tide, to reconcile themselves with their
. brethren, and confess their faults to each other. Noble
princes, and fathers of this holy expedition, Richard is a
EoJdicr — his hand is «ver readier than his tongue — and
bis tongue is but too much used to the rough language of
hia trade. But do not, for Plantagenet's hasly speeches
and ill-eonsidered aetioas, forsake the noble cause of the
redemption of Palestine — do not throw away earthly re-
nown and eternal salvation, to be won here if ever tliey
can bo won by man, because the act of a soldier may
have been hasty, and his speech as hard as the iron which
he has worn from childhood. Is Richard in default to
any of you, Richard will make compensation both by
word and action. — Noble brother of France, have I been
BO uniucky as to offend you ? "

" The M^esty of Fi-ance has no atonement to seek
from that of England," answered Phihp with kingly dig-
nity, accepting, at the same time, the offered hand of
Richard ; " and whatever opinion I may adopt concerning
the prosecution of this enterprise, will depend on reasons

THE TAI,iaMAN,

13

arising out of the state of my own kingdom, certainly on
no jealousy or disgust at my royal and moat valorous
brother."

"Austria," said Sichard, walking up to the Archduke,
with a mixture of frankness and dignity, while Leopold
arose fi'om his seat, as if involuntarily, and with the ac-
tion of an automaton, whose motions depended upon some
externa! impulse, — "Austria thinks he hath reason to he
offended with England ; England, that he hath cause to
complain of Austria. Let them exchange forgiveness,
Ihat the peace of Europe, and the concord of this host,
may remain unbroken. "We are now joint supporters of
a more glorious banner than ever blazed before an ejirthly
prince, — even the Banner of Salvation — let not, there-
fore, strife be betwixt us, for the symbol of our more ,
worldly dignities ; but let Leopold restore the pennon of
England, if he has it in his power, and Richard will say,
though from no motive save hia love for Holy Church,
that he repents him of the hasty mood in which he did
insult the standard of Austria."

The Archduke stood still, sullen and discontented, with
his eyes fixed on the floor, and his countenance lowering
with smothered displeasure, which awe, mingled with
awkwardness, prevented his giving vent to in words.

The Patriarch of Jerusalem hastened to break the em-
barrassing silence, and to bear witness for the Archduke
of Austria, that he had exculpated himself", by a solemn
oath, from all knowledge, direct or indirect, of the aggres-
sion done to the Banner of England.

" Then we have done the noble Archduke the greater
" said Richard ; " and craving his pardon for im-
puting to him on outrage so cowardly, we extend our
hand to him in token of renewed peace and amity. — But

14

■WATEELET KOVELS,

hand, t

Wha

hoiv is this? Austria refuses o

formerly refused our mailed

neither to be his mate in peace, nor his antagonist in

war ? Well, let it be so. We will take the slight esteem

in wliinh he holds us, as a penance for aught which we

may have done against him in heat of blood, and will

therefore hold the account between ua cleared."

So saying, he turned from the Archduke with am air
rather of dignity than scom, leaving the Austrian appar-
ently as much relieved by the removal of his eye, as ia
B sullen and truant school-boy when the glance of hia
severe pedagogue is withdi-awn.

" Noble Eail of Champagne — Princely Marquis of
Montserrat — Valiant Grand Master of the Templars — I
am here a penitent in the confessional — Do any of you
bring a charge, or claim amends from me?"

" I know not on what we could ground any," said the
smooth-tongued Conrade, " unless it were that the King
of England carries off from bis poor brothers of tiie war
all the fame which they might have hoped lo gain ia the
expedition."

" My charge, if I am caUed on to make one," said the
Master of the Templars, " is graver and deeper than that of
the Marquis of Monlserraf. It may be thought ill to bft-
seem a military monk such as I lo raise his voice where
so many noble princes remain silent ; but it concerns our
whole host, and not least this noble King of England, that
he should hear from some one to his face those charges,
which tiiere are enow to bring against him in his absence.
Wc laud and honour the courage and higji achievements
of the King of England, but we feel aggrieved that he
should, on all occasions, seize and maintain a precedence
and superiority over us, which it becomes not independent

THE TALIEMAIT. 15

princes to submit to. Much we might yield of our free
will to Lis bravery, bi:i zeal, bis wealth, and his power ;
but be who suatcbes all, as matter of right, and leaves
iiotiiing to grant out of courtesy and favour, degrades us
fiom allies into retaioers and vassab, and sullies, in the
eyes of our soldiers and subjects, the lustre of our author-
ity, which is no longer independently exercised. Since
the royal Richard has asked the trulh from ua, he must
neither be surprised nor angry when be hears one, to
whom worldly pomp is probibiled, and secular authority
is nothing, saving so far as it advances the proaperily of
God's Temple, and the proslration of the lion, which goetti
about seeking whom he may devour — when he hears, I
say, such a one as I tell him the truth in reply to bia
qnestioQ ; which truth, even while I speak it, is, I know,
confirmed by the heart of every one who hears me, how-
ever respect may stifle their voices."

Kichard coloured very highly while the Grand Master
was making this direct and unvarnished attack upon his
conduct, and the murmur of a.-^sent which followed it
showed plainly, that almost all who were present acqui-
esced in the justice of the accusation. luceosed, and at
the same time mortified, he yet foresaw that to give way
to his headlong resentment, would be to give the cold and
wary accuser the advantage over him which it was the
Templar's principal object to obtain. He therefore, with
a strong effort, remained silent till he had repeated a pater
nosier, being the course which his confessor had enjoined
him to pursue, when anger was likely to obtain dominion
over him. The King then spoke with composure, though
Dot wtlbout an imbitlered tone, especially ut tlie outset.

" And is it even so ? And are our brethren at sucb
pains to note the infirmities of onr natural temper, and

16

WATEEtE-

NOV El S.

the 1 oogh precipitance of our zeal, which may sometimes
have mged ua to issue commands when there was 'little
time to hold council ? I could not have thought that
offcuces, casual and unpremeditated like miae, could find
such deep root in the hearts of my allies in this most holy
cause ; that for my sake they should withdraw their hand
from the plongh when the furrow was near the end ; for
my sake turn aside from the direct path to Jerusalem,
which their sworda have opened. I vainly thought that
my small services might have outweighed mj rash errors
— that if it were remembered that I pressed to the van in
an assault, it would not be forgotten that I was ever the
last in the retreat — that, if I elevated my banner upon
conquered fields of battle, it was all the advantage that I
sought, while others were dividing the spoil. I may have
called the conquered city by my name, but it was to others
that I yielded the dominion. If I have been headstrong
in urging bold counsels, I have not, methinks, spared my
own blood or my people's in carrying them into as bold
execution — or if 1 have, in the hurry of march or battle,
assumed a command over the soldiers of others, such
have been ever treated as my own, when my wealth pur-
chased the provisions and medicines which their own sov-
ereigns could not procure. — But it shames me to remind
you of what all hut myself seem to have forgotten. — Let
us rather look forward to our future measures ; and bc-
Jieve me, brethren," he contiaued, his face kindling with
eagerness, "you shall not find the pride, or the wrath, or
the ambition of Richard, a sturabling-block of offence in
the path to which religion and glory summon you, as with
the trumpet of an archangel. Oil, no, no ! never would
I survive the thought, that my frailties and infirmities had
been t!ie means to sever this goodly fellowship of assera-

17

bled princes. I would cut off my left hand with my right,
could my doing so attest my sincerity. I will yield up,
volunlnrily, all right to command in the Lost, even mine
own liege Bubjects. They shall be led by such sovereigns
as you may nominate, and their King, ever but too apt lo
exchange the leader's baton for the adventurer's lanco,
will serve under the banner of Beau-Seant among ttie
Templars — ay, or Under that of Austria, if Austria will
name a brave man to lead hia forces. Or, if ye are youiv-
selves a-weary of this war, and feel your armour chafe
your tender bodies, leave but willi Richard some ten or
fifteen tbouiand of your soldiers to work out the accom-
plishment of your vow; and wheu Zion is won," he ex-
claimed, waving his hand aloft, as if displaying (he
Blandard of the Cross over Jerusalem — " when Zion is
won, we ivill write upon her gates, HOT the name of Rich-
ard Plantagenet, but of those generous princes who in-
ti-usted him with the means of conquest ! "

The rough eloquence and determined expression of the
mililaiy monarch, at once roused the drooping spirits of
the Cru=aders, reanimated their devotion, and, fixing
their attention on the principal object of the expedition,
made moat of them who. were present blush for having
been moved by such petty subjects of complaint as -had
before engrossed them. Eye caught fire from eye, voice
lent courage to voice. They resumed, as with one ac-
cord, (he war-cry with which the sermon of Peter tlie
Hermit was echoed back, and shouted aloud, "Lead us
on, gallant Lion'a-heart — none so worthy to lead where
brave men follow. Lead us on — to Jerusalem — to Jeru-
salem ! It is the will of God— it is the will of God I
Blessed is he who shall lend an arm to its fulfilment I"

The shout, so suddenly and generally raised, was heard

k

18 WATERLET NOTBLB-

beyond llie ring of sentinels who guarded the pavilion of
Council, and spread among the soldiers of the lio^t, who,
inuctive and dispirited by disease and climate. Lad begun,
like tlmir leaders, to droop in resolution ; but the reap-
pearance of Rieliai'd in renewed vigoiu', and the well-
known shout whieh echoed from the assembly of tha
princes, at once rekindled their eathusiasiii, and thou-
sands and tens of thousands answered with the same
shout of "Zion, Zion! — War, war! — instant battle with
the infidels I It is the will of God — it is the will of
God ! "

The acclamations from witiiout increased in their turn
the enthusiasm which prevailed within the paTilion.
Those who did not actually catch the flame, were afraid,
at least for the time, to seem colder than others. There
was no more speech except of a proud advance towards
Jerusalem upon the expiry of the truce, atid the measures
to be taken in the meantime for supplying and recruiting
the army. The council broke up, all apparently filled
with the same enthusiastic purpose, — which, however,
soon faded in the bosom of most, and never had an exist-
ence in Ihat of others.

Of the latter class were the Marquis Conrade and the
Grand Master of the Templars, who retired together to
their quarters ill at ease, and malcontent with the events
of the day.

" I ever told it to thee," said the latter, with the cold
sardonic expression peculiar to him, " that Kichard would
burst through the flimsy wiles you spread for him, as
would a lion through a spider's web. Thou seest he has
but to speak, and his breath agilales these fickle fools as
easily as the whirlwind catcheth scattered straws, and
sweeps them together, or disperses them at its pit

J

THE TALISMAN. 19

* When the blast ha.s passed away," said Conrade, " the
straws, whiah it made danc« to its pipe, will settle to

" But know'st thou not besides," said the Templar,
" that it seem.^, if this new purpose of conquest shiiU be
abandoned and pass away, and each mighty prince shall
again be lefl to such guidiinoe as his onn scanty brain
can supply, Richard may yet probably become King of
Jerusalem by compact, and establish (hose terras of treaty
with the Soldan, which thou thyself thought'st him so
likely to spurn at ? "

" Now, by Mahound and Termagaunt, for Christian
oaths are out of fashion," said Cournde, " say'st thou
the proud King of England would unite his blool with a.
heathen Soldan ? — My policy threw in 'that ingredient to
make tlie whole treaty an abomination to him. — As bad
for us that ho become our master by an agreement, as by
victory."

" Thy policy hath ill calculated Eichard's digestion,"
answered the Templar ; " I know his mind by a whisper
from the Archbishop. — And then thy mai^ter-stroke re-
specting yonder banner, it has parsed off with no more
respect than two cubits of embroidered silk merited.
Marquis Conrade, thy wit begins to halt — I will trust
lliy fine-spun measures no longer, but will try my own.
Know'st thou not the people whom the Saracens call
Oharegites?"

" Surely," answered the Marquis ; " they are despeiute
and besotted enthusiasts, who devote their lives lo the
aihancement of i-eligion — somewhat like Templars — only
they are never known to pause in the race of their

k

"Jest not," answered the scowling monk; "know, that

20

WATKELET MOTELS.

one of these men has aet down, io his hloodj vow, [ho
same of the Island Emperor ;fonder, to be hewn down ai
the chief enemy of the Moslem faith."

"A moat judicious paynim," said Conrade. ^May Ma-
homet send him his paradise for a reward!"

" He was taken in the camp by one of our squirea,
and, in private examination, frankly avowed his fixed
and determined purpose to me," said the Grand Master.

" Now the Heavens pardon them who prevented the
purpose of this most judicious Charegite!" answered
Conrade.

" He ia my prisoner," added the Templar, " and se-
cluded from speech with others, as thou mayst suppose — ■
but prisons have been broken "

" Chains letl unlocked, and captives have escaped,"
answered the Marquis. " It is an ancient saying, — no
sure dungeon but the grave."

"When loose he resumes his quest," continued the
mihtary priest; "for it ia the natnre of this sort of blood-
hound never to quit the slot of the prey he has once
scented."

" Say no more of it," said the Marquis ; " I see thy
policy — it is dreadful, but the emergency is imminent."

" I only told thee of it," said the Templar, " that thon
mayst keep thyself on thy guard, for the uproar will be
dreadful, and there is no knowing on whom the English
may vent their rage — Ay, and there is another risk — my
page knows the counsels of this Charegite," he continued ;
"and, moreover, he is a peevish, self-willed fool, whom I
would 1 were rid of, as he thwarts me by presuming to
see with his own eyes, not mine. But our holy Order
gives me power to pot a remedy to such inconvenience.
Or stay — the Saracen may find a good dagger in his cell,

J

THE TALISSIAK. 21

and I warrant you he uses it as lie breaks forth, which
will be of a surety so soon as the page enters with his
food/'

" It will give the affair a colour," said Conrade ; " and
yet"

" Tet and but/* said the Templar, ** are words for fools
•—wise men neither hesitate nor retract — ^they resolve and
they execute.**

WATEKLET N0YEL3.

CHAPTER XX,

Vhea brauCy leidii th

IlOQlnhDrtoDs,

Bochw

e dure not nl» h

rui«.

rorofhUftnga,

BopffltAlcidfflmml,

i-dul,..*:.!.^

Andap

B lo p]«H fair OmphalS.

RiCHABD, the unsuspicious object of ihe dark treacberj J
detailed in Ihe closing part of the last chapter, havini
eBected, for the present at least, the triumphant ui
the Cinisading princes, in a resolution to prosecute thei
war with vigour, had it nest at heart to establish traib- 1
quillity in his own family ; and, now that he could judge I
more temperately, lo inquire distinctly into the cireuut- J
stances leading to the loss of his banner, and Ihe natujftj
and the extent of the coDoection betwixt his kinswomuij
Edith, and the banished adventurer from Scotland.

Accordingly, the Queen and her household wi
etariled with a visit from Sir Thomas de Vaux, reque
ing the present attendance of the Lady Calista of MontMj
faucon, the Queen's principal bower-woman, upon King]
Richard.

"What am I to Bay, madam?" said the trembliiig |
attendant to the Queen, " He will slay us all,"

"Nay, fear not, madam," said De Vaux, " His Ma-
jesty hath spared the life of the Scottish knight, who J
waa the chief offender, and bestowed him. upon tha 1

L

IHE TALISMATT. 23

Moorish (>hysii;ian — he will not he severe upon a lady,
though faulty."

'^ Devise some cunning tale, wench," said Berengaria.
"My hushand hath too little time to make inquiry into
the truth."

" Tell the tale as it really happened," said Edith, " lest
I tell it for thee."

" With humble permission of her Majesty," said Do
"Vaux, " I would say Lady Edilh adviselh weU i for
although King Richard is pleased to believe what it
pleases your Grace to tell him, yet I doubt hia having
the )<ame deference for the Lady Calista, and in this
especial matter."

"The Lord of Gilsland ia right," said the I<ady
Caliata, much agitated at the thoughts of the inve.=tiga-
tion which was to take place : " and, besides, if I had
presence of mind enough to forge a plausible slory,
heshrew me if I think I should have the courage to
tell it."

In this candid humoar, the Lady Caliala was conducted
by Dc Vaux to the King, and made, as she had proposed,
a full confession of the decoy by which the unfortunate
Knight of the Leopard had been induced to desert his
post; exculpating the Lady Edith, who, she was aware,
would not fail to exculpate herself, and laying the full
burden on the Queen, her mistress, whose share of the
frolic, she well knew, would appear the most venial in
the eyes of Coaur dc Lion. In truth, Bichard was a
fond — almost an uxorious husband. The first burst of
his wrath had long since passed away, and he was not
disposed severely to censure what could not now be
amended. The wily Lady Catista, accustomed From' her
earliest childhood to fathom the intrigues of a court, and

S4

WATKELBT ITOVELH.

watch the indications of a. sovereign's will, hastened back
to the Queen with the speed of a lapwing, charged with
tbe King's commands that she should eiipect a speedy
visit from him ; to which the bower-lady added a com-
mentary founded on her own observatioa, tending to
show thai Richard meant just to preeerre so much
severity as might bring his royal consort to repent of her
frolic, and then to extend to Ler and all concerned, his
grai/ious pardon.

" Sits the wind in that comer, wench ? " said the Queen,
much relieved by this intelligence ; '' believe me, tha^
great commander as he is, Richard will find it hard to
circumvent ua in thia matter; and lha(, as the Fyrenean
shepherds ore wont to say in my native Navarre, many a
one comes for wool and goes back shorn."

Having possessed herself of iill the information whidi
Calista could commnnicate, the royal Berengaria arrayed
herself in her most becoming dress, and awaited with
confidence the arrival of the hei-oic Richard.

He arrived, and found himself in the situation of a
prince entering an offending province, in the confidence
that his business will only be to inflict rebuke, and receive
submission, when he unexpectedly finds it in a slate of
complete defiance and insurrection. Berengaria well
knew the power of her charms, and the extent of
Kichard's affection, and felt assured that she could make
her own terms good, now that the first tremendous ex-
plosion of his anger had expended itself without mis-
chief. Far from listening to the King's intended rebuke,
as what the levity of her conduct had justly deserved,
she extenuated, nay, defended, as a hai^mless frolic, that
which she was accused of. She denied, indeed, with
many a pretty form of negation, that she had directed

25

Neciabanua absolutely to entice the knight farllier ihan
tlie brink of the Mount on which he kept watch — and
indeed this was so far true, tliat she had not designed Sir
Eenneth to be introduced into her teni, — and then,
eloquent in iirging her own defence, the Queen was far
more so in pressing upon Richard the charge of unkind-
UPBS, in refusing her so poor a boon as the life of an un-
fortunate knight, who, by her thonghtleBs prank, had been
brought williin the danger of martial law. She wept and
sobbed while she enlai^ed on her husbaod'a obdumcy on
this score, as a rigour which had threatened to make her
unliappy for life, whenever she should reflect ihat she had
given, unthinkingly, the remote canae for such a tragedy.
The visioD of the slaughtered victim would have haunted
her dreams^ — ^nay, for aught she knew, since such things
otlen happened, his actual spectre might have stood by
her waking couch. To all this misery of the mind was
slie exposed by the severity of one, who, while he pre-
tended to dote upon her slightest glance, wonld not forego
one act of poor revenge, though the issue was to render
her miserable.

AM this flow of female eloquence was accompanied
with the usual arguments of tears and sighs, and uttered
with such tone and action, as seemed to show that the
Queen'a resentment arose neither from pride nor sullen-
nese, but from feelings hurt at finding her consequence
with her hushaad less than sbe had expected to possess.

The good King Eichard was considerably embarrassed.
He tried in vain to reason with one, whose very jealousy
of his affection rendered her incapable of listening to
argument, nor could he bring himself to use the restraint
of lawful aullioi'ity to a creature so beautiful in the midst
of her unreasonable displeasure. He w

TTAVEBLET JKOTBLS.

redncpd to the defensive, endeapourRd gently to chide her
suspicions, and soolhe liej- displeasure, and retiilled to her
mind that she need not look back upon the past with
rerailleclions either of remorse or supernatural fear, since
Sir Kenneth was aUve and well, and had been bestowed
by liim npon the great Arabian physieian, who, doubtless,
of <ill men, knew best how to keep iiiin living. But this
seemed the unkindest cut of all, and the Queen's sorrow
wits renewed at ihe idea of a Saracen — a mediciner —
obtaining a boon, for which, wiih bare head, and on
bended knee, she had petitioned her husband in vaiQ.
At this new charge, Richard's patience began rather lo
give way, and he said, in a serious tone of voiee, " Beren-
gnria, the physician saved my life. If it is of value in
joiir eyes, you will not grudge him a higher recompense
than tlie only one I could prevail on liim to accept."

The Queen was satisfied she had urged her coquettish
displeasure to the verge of safety.

"My Richard," she said, "why brought you not that
sage to me, that England's Queen might show how she
esteemed him, who could save from extinction the'lamp
of chivalry, the glory of England, and the light of poor
Berengaria's life and hope ? "

In a word, the matrimonial dispute was ended ; bat,
that some penalty might be paid to justice, both King and
Queen accorded in laying the whole blame on the agent
Nectabanus, who (the Queen being by this time well
weary of the poor dwarTs humour) was, with his royal
consort Guinever, sentenced to be banished from Iha
court; and the unlucky dwarf only escaped a supple-
mentary whipping, from the Queen's assurances that he
had already sustained personal chastisement. It waa
decreed farther, that as an envoy waa shortly to be di»-

THE TALISMAN.

37

patched to Salailio, acquainting him wiih the resolution
of the Council to resume hostilities so soon as the tniee
was ended, and as Richard proposed to send a valuable
present to the Soldan, in acknowledgment of the high
benefit he had derived from the services of El Hakim,
the two unhappy creatures should be added lo it as curi-
osities, which, from their extremely grotesque appear-
ance, and the shattered stale of their intellect, were
gifla that might well pass between sovereign and
sovereign.

Richard had ibat day yet another female encounter lo
sustain ; but be advanced to it with comparative indiffer-
ence, for Edith, though beautiful, and highly esteemed by
her rojal relative — nay, although she had from his unjust
suspicions actually sustained the injury of which Beren-
garia only affected to complain, atiil was neither Richard's
wife nor mistress, and he feared her reproaches less,
although founded in reason, than those of the Queen,
though unjust and fantastical. Having requested to
speak with her apart, he was ushered into her apartment,
adjoining that of the Queen, whose two female Coptish
slaves remained on their knees in the most remote comer
during the interview. A thin black veil extended its
ample folds over the tall and graceful form of the high-
born maiden, and she wore not upon her person any
female ornament of what kind soever. She arose and
made a low reverence when Richard entered, resumed
her seat at his command, and, when he sat down beside
her, waited, without uttering a syllable, until he should
communicate his pleasure.

Richard, whose cu-itom it was to be fatniiiar with Edith,
as their relationship authorised, felt this reception chilling,
and opened (he conversation with some embarrassment.

L

WAVEKLEY HOVEi. V

« Our fair

a that si

t length B

k angry with
s ii&ve induced
D?, without cao^e, to suspect her of conduct alien to what
we have ever known in her course of life. Bnt while we
walk ID this misty valley of humanity, men will luistake
shadows for substances. Can my fair cousin not lurgive
her somewhat vehement kinsman, Richard ? "

" Who can refuse forgiveness to Richard" answered
Edith, " provided Richard c
King ? "

" Come, my kinswoman,"
is all too solemn. By Our Lady, such a melancholy c<
tenance, and this ample sable veil, might make men think
thou wcrt a new-made widow, or had lost a betrothed lover,
at least. Cheer up — thou hast heard doubtless that there
is no real cause for woe — why then keep up the form of

obtain pardon of tho
replied Cceur de Lion

" For the departed honour of Planfagenet — for the
glory which hath left my father's house."

Richard frowned. " Departed honour ! glory which
hath left our house ! " he repeated, angrily ; " but my
cousin Edith is privileged. I have judged her loo hastily,
she has therefore a right to deem of mo too harshly. But
tell me at least in what I have faulted."

" PJanlagenet," said Edith, " should have either par-
doned an offence, or punished it. It misbecomes him to
assign free men. Christians, and brave knighls, lo ihe
fetters of the in6de!9. It becomes him not to compromise
and barter, or to grant life under the forfeiture of liberty.
To have doomed the unfortunate lo death might have
been severity, but had a show of justice ; to condemn him
to slavery and exile, waa barefaced tyranny."

" I see, my fair cousin," said Richard, " you are of those

i

I kingtc

THS TAJLTSltAIf. Sd

[.retty ones who think an absent lover as bad as uone, or
as a dead one. Be patient ; half a scota of light horse-
men may yet follow and redeem the error, if thy gallant
have in keeping any secret which might render bis death
more convenient than his banishment."

" Peace with thy acurril jests ! " answered Edith, col-
ouring deeply — " Think rather, that for the indulgence
of thy mood thou hast lopped from this great enterprise
one goodly limb, deprived the Cross of one of its most
brave supporters, and placed a servant of the true Giod in
the hands of the heathen ; hast given, too, to minds as
auspicious as thou liast shown thine own in this matter,
some right to say that Richard Cosur de Lien banished
the bravest soldier in his camp, lest his name in battle
might match his own."

" I~-I ! " esclaimed Eicbard, now indeed greatly moved
— " am I one to be jealous of renown ? — I would be were
here to profess such aa equality ! I would wave my rank
and my crown, and meet him, manlike, in the list-s that
it might appear whether Richard Piantagenet had, room
to fear or to envy the prowess of mortal man. Come,
Edith, ihon think'st not as thou say'st. Let not anger or
grief for the absence of thy lover, make tbee unjust to
thy kinsman, who, notwithstanding all thy tetchiness,
values thy good report as high as that of any one

"The absence of my lover?" said the Lady Edith.
" But yea — he may be well termed my lover, who bat?"
paid so dear for the title. Unworthy as I might be a'
Euch homage, I was to him like a light, leading him for
ward in the noble path of chivalry j but that I forgot m;
that be presumed beyond his, is false, wnre f
jpeak it."

r

" My fair cousin," said Eicliard, " do not put words
)Lith nliicli I have not spolcea. I said not you b
graced this man beyond the favour which a good knight
may earn, even from a princess, whatever be his native
condition. But, by Our Lady, I know something of this
love-gear — it begins with mute respect and distant rever-
ence ; but, when opportunities occur, familiarity increases,
and so — But it skills not talking with one who tliinks
herself wiser than all the world."

" My lunsman's counsels I willingly listeu to, when
they are sucb," said Edith, "as convey no insult to my
rank and character."

" Kings, my fair cousin, do not counsel, but rather
command," said Richard.

" Soldans do indeed command," said Edith, " but it is
because they have slaves to govern."

" Come, you might learn to lay aside thia acorn of SoU
danrie, when you hold so high of a Scot," said the King.
" I hold Saladin to be truer to his word than this William
of Scotland, who must needs he called a Lion, forsooth —
be hath foully faulted towards me, in failing to send the
auxiliary aid he promised. Let me tell thee, Edith, thou
may'st live to prefer a true Turk to a false Scot."

" No — never ! " answered Edith — " not should Kichard
himself embrace the false religion, which be crossed the
seas to expel from Palestine."

" Thou wilt have the last word," said Richard, " and
thou shalt have it. Even think of me what thou wilt,.
pretty Edith. I shall not forget that we are near amt
dear cousins."

So saying, he took his leave in fair fashion, but v
I'ttle satisfied with the result of bis visit.

It was the fourth day after Sir Kenneth had been d

^

THE TALISHAH.

31

I

missed fioin the camp ; and King Hichard sat in his pa-
vilioa, enjoying an evenitig brecEe from the west, which,
with UDUsual coolotas on her wings, Eeemed hreathed
from merry England for the refreahment of her adven-
turous monarch, aa he was gradually recovering the fiill
strength which was necessary to carry on his gigantic
projects. There was no one with him, De Vaux having
been sent to Ascalon to bring up reinforcements and sup-
plies of military munition, and most of his other attend-
ants being occupied in difitrent departments, all prepar-
ing for (he reopening of ho>tilities, and for a grand
preparatory review of the army of the Crusaders, which
was to take place the next day. The King sat, listening '
to the busy hum among the soldiery, the clatter from the
forges, where horseshoes were preparing, and from the
tents of the armourers, who were repairing harness — die
voice of the soldiers, too, as ihey passed and repassed,
^fis loud and cheerful, carrying with its very tone an
assurance of high aud excited courage, and an omen of
approaching victory. While Richard's ear drank in these
Bounds with deUghl, and while he yielded himself to (he
visions of conquest and of glory which they suggested, an
equerry told him that a messenger from Saladin waited
without.

"Admit him instantly," said the King, "and with due
honour, Josceline."

The English knight accordiogly introduced a person,
apparently of no higher rank tban a Nubian slave, whose
appeai-ance was nevertheless highly interesting. He was
of superb stature and nobly formed, and his commanding
features, although almost jet-black, showed nothing of
negro descent. He wore over his coal-black locks a
milk-while turban, and over his shoulders a short mantle

32

WAVBRI^BY HOVELS.

of ihe same colour, open in front and at Ihe pleeves, utid^
which appeared a doublet of dressed leopard's skin reanh-'
ihg within a handbreadth of ihe knee. The rest of his 1
musr.tilar limbs, both legs and arms, were bare, excepting: I
lliat he had sandals on his feet, and wore a collar an4i J
bracelets of silver. A straight broadsword, with a handle J
of boxwood, and a sheath covered with anafce-skin, wa* I
suspended from his waist. In his right hand he held ifM
short javelin, with a broad, bright, steel head, of a span |
in length, and in his led he led, by a leash of twisted silk J
and gold, a large and noble slag'houn^.

The messenger prostrated himself, at the same time
partially uncovering his shoulders, in sign of humiliation,
and having touched the earth with hia forehead, arose so
far as lo rest on one knee, while he delivered to the King
a silken napkin, inclosing another of cloth of gold, within
which was a letter from Saladin in the original Arabic,
with a translation into Norman-English, which moy Jje
modernized thus : —

" Saladin, King of kings, to Meloch Ric, the Iiion o£ j
England. Whereas, we are informed by thy last d
sage, that Ihou hast chosen war rather than peace, anifl
our enmity rather than our friendship, we account thee a
one blinded in this matter, and trust shortly to com
thee of thine error, by the help of our invincible ft
of the thousand tribes, when Mohammed, the Prophet o
God, and Allah, the God of the Prophet, shall judge the
controversy betwixt na. In what remains, we make noble
account of thee, and of the gifts which thou hast sent ns,
and of the two dwarfs, singular in their deformity aa
Tsop, and mirthful as the lute of Isaack. And in requi-
lai of these tokens from the ireasnre-house of ihy bounty,
behold we have sent thee a Nubian slave, named Zohauk,

of whom judge not by his complexion, aceoriling to the
foolish ones of the earth, in i-espect the dark-rindeJ fruit
Lalh the moat exquisite flavour. Know that he is strong
to execute the will of his niaater, as Rnstan of Zahleslan;
also he ia wise to give counsel when Ihou shalt iearn to
hold communii-ation with him, for Ihe Lord of Speech
hath heen stricken with silence iMtwixt Ihe ivory ivalU
of liis palace. We commend him to thy cure, hoping the
hour may not be distant when he may render thee good
service. And herewith we bid thee fai'ewcll ; trusting
that our most holy Prophet may yet call thee to a si^ht
of the truth, failing which illumination, our desii-e is, for
the speedy resloralion of thy royal health, that Allah
may judge between thee and us in a plain field of bat-
tle."

And the missive was sanctioned by the signature and
seal of the Soldan.

Richard surveyed the Nubian in silenee as ho stood be-
fore him, his looks bent upon the ground, his arms folded
on his bosom, with the appearance of a black marble
statue of the most exquisite workmanship, waiting life
from the touch of a Proraethena. The King of England,
who, as it was emphatically aaid of his successor Henry
the Eighth, loved lo look upon A man, was well pieased
with the thewes, sinews, and symmetry of liim whom he
now surveyed, and questioned him in the Lingua Franca,
"Art thou a pagan?"

The slave shook his bead, and raising his finger to his
brow, crossed himself in token of his Christianity, then
resumed his posture of motionless humility.

" A Nubian Christian, doubtless," said Richard, " and
mutilated of the organ of speech by these heathen dogs ? "

The mute again slowly shook his head in token of neg-

34

WAVEHLET HOTELS.

alive, pointed wilh hia forefinger to Heaven, and the«j|
laid h upon his own lips.

" 1 understoDd thee," said Richard ; " tliou dost s
under the inflictioa of God, not by the cruelty of maik J
Canst thou clean an armour and belt, and buckle it in
time of need?"

The mute nodded, and stepping towards tha coat of
mail, which hung with the shieH and helmet of the chiv-
alrous monarch, upon the pillar of the tent, he handled it
with such nicety of address, as sufficiently to show that
he fully understood the business of the armour-bearer,

" TJiou art an apt, and will doubtless be a useful knave
— thou shall wait in my chamber, and on my person,"
said the King, " to show how much I value the gift of the
I'oyal Soldan. If thou Iiast no tongue, it follows thou
canst carry no tales, neither provoke me to be auddeci by
any unfit reply,"

The Nubian again prostrated himself till his brow
touched the earth, then stood erect, at some paces distant,
as waiting for bis new master's commands.

" Nay, thou shall commence thy office presently," said
Richard, " for I see a speck of rust darkening on that
shield ; and when I shake it in the face of Saladin, it
should be bright and unsullied as the Soldan's honour and

A bom was winded without, and presently Sir Henry
Neville entered with a packet of dispatches. — " From
England, my lord," he said, as he delivered it.

" From England — our own England ! " repeated Eich-
ard, in a lone of melancholy enthusiasm — " Alas I they
htlle think how hard their Sovereign has been beset by ]
sickness and sorrow — fiunt friends and forward e
Then opening the dispatches, he said, hastily, " Ha ! thiv J

THE TALISJIADT. 35

come? fi-om no peaceful land — they loo have their feads.
— Neville, begone — I must peruse these tidings alone, and

Neville withdrew accordingly, and Richard was soon
absorbed in the melancholy details which had been coa*
vcyed lo him from England, concerning the factions that
were tearing to pieces his native dominions — tlie disunion
of his brothers, John and Geoffrey, and the quarrels of
both i\'ilh the High Justiciary Longohainp, Bishop of
Ely, — the oppressions practised by the nobles upon the
peasantry, and rebellion of ihe latter against their mas-
ters, which had produced everywhere scenes of discord,
. and in some instances the effusion of blood. Details of
incidents mortityiDg lo his pride, and derogatory from his
authority, were intermingled with the earnest advice of
his wisest and most attached counsellors, that he should
presently return to England, as his presence offered the
only hope of saving Ihe kingdom from all Ihe horrors of
civil discord, of which France and Scotland were likely
to avail themselves. Filled with the most painful anx-
iety, Richard read, and again read, the ill-omened letters,
compared the intelligence which some of Ihem contained
with the same facts as differently slated in others, and
soon became totally insensible to whatever was passing
around him, although seated, for the sake of coolness,
close to Ihe entrance of his tent, and having the curtains
withdrawn, so that he could see and be seen by the guards
and others who were stationed without.

Deeper in Ihe shadow of the pavilion, and busied with
ihe lask his new master had imposed, sat the Nubian
slave, with his back rather turned towards the King. He
had finished adjusting and cleaning the hauberk and brig-
ondine, and was now busily employed on a broad pavesse,

3G WiTERLET HOVELS.

or buckler, of unusual size, and covered with steel-p
iDg, which Richard odea used in recoonoitring, or actu-
ally storming fortified places, as a more effectual prolee-
tion against missile weapons, than the narrow triangular
shield used on horseback. This pavesse bore neither the
royal lions of England, nor any other device, to attract
the observation of the defenders of the walls against
which it was advanced ; the care, therefore, of the ar-
mourer was addressed to causing its surface to shine as
bright as crystal, in which ha seemed to be peculiarly
successful. Beyond the Nubian, and scarce visible fi'om
without, lay the large dog, which might be termed bis
brother slave, and which, as if he fe!t awed by being
transferred to a royal owner, was couched close to the
side of the mule, with head and ears on the ground, and
his limhs and tail drawn close around and under him.

While the Monarch aod his new attendant were thus
occupied, another actor crept upon the scene, and mingled
among the group of English yeomen, about a score of
whom, respecting the unusually pensive posture and close
occupation of their sovereign, were, contrary to their wont,
keeping a silent guard in front of his tent. It was jiot,
however, more vigilant than usuaL Some were playing
at games of hazard with small pebbles, others spoke
together in whispers of the approaching day of battle, and
several lay asleep, their bulky limbs folded in their green
mantles.

Amid these careless warders glided the puny form of a
little old Turk, poorly dressed like a marahout or santon
of the desert, a sort of enthusiasts, who sometimes ven-
tured into the camp of the Crusaders, though treated
always with contumely, and often with violence. Indeed,
the luxury and profligate indulgence of the Chris^tian

37

leatlere had occasioned a motley concourse in their tenls,
of musicrans, courtezans, Jewish merchants, Copis, Turks,
and all the varied refuse of the Eastern nations ; so that
the ctifian and tnihan, though to drive hoth from the Holy
Land was the professed object of the expedition, were
nevertheless neither an uncommon nor an alarming sight
in the camp of the Crusaders. When, however, the little
insignificant figure we have described approached bo nigh
as to receive some interruption from the warders, he
dashed his dusky green turban from his head, showed that
his beard and eyebrows were shaved like those of a pro-
fessed bufTooD, and that the expression of his fantastic and
writhen features, as well as of his little black eyes, which
glittered like jet, was that of a crazed imagtoalion.

" Dance, marabout," cried the soldiers, acquainted with
the manners of these wandering enthusiasts — " dance, or
we will scoiirge thee with our bow-strings, till thou spin
as never top did under school-boy's lash." — Thus shouted
the reckless warders, as much delighted at having a sub-
ject to tease, as a child when he catches a butterfly, or a
schoo!-boy upon discovering a bird's nest

The marabout, as if happy to do their behests, bounded
from the earth, and spun bis giddy round before them
with singular agility, which, when contrasted with his
slight and wasted figure, and diminutive appeai-ance,
made him resemble a withered leaf twirled round and
around at the pleasure of the winter's breeze. His single
lock of hair streamed upwards from his bald and shaven
head, as if some genie upheld him by it ; and indeed it
seemed as if supernatural art were necessary to the exe-
cution of the wild whirling dance, in which scarce the
tiptoe of the performer was seen to touch the ground.
Amid the vagaries of his performance, he flew here and

L

WATEKLET NOVELS.

(Lore, from one spot to another, Btill approaching, howw-
ever, ihougli almost impercepiiblj, to llie enl
royol tent ; fo that, when at length he sunk exhausted on
the earth, ailer two or three bounds atill higher limn those
which he had yet executed, he was not above thirty yards
from the King's person.

" Give him ivater," said one yeoman ; " they always
crave a drink after iheir merry-go-round."

"Aha, water, say'st thou, Long Allen ? " — esclnimed
another archer, with a most Bcornfui emphasis
despised element ; " how wouldst like such beverage tliy-
sclf, after such a morrice dancing ? "

"The devil a water-drop he gets here," aaid a ihird.
" "We will teach the light-fooled old infldel to be a good
Chriatian, and drink wine of Cyprus."

"Ay, ay," said a fourth ; " and in case he be resti'
fetch thou Dick Hunter's horn, that he drenches his mars
withaL"

A circle was instantly formed around the prostrate and
exhau.sted dervise, and while one tall yeoman raised hia
feeble form from the ground, another presented to him a
huge flagon of wine. Incapable of speech, the old man
shook bis head, and wared away from him with his hand
the liquor forbidden by (he Prophet ; but his tormentors
were not thus to be appeased.

"The horn, the horn!" exclaimed one. "Little dif-
ference between a Turk and a Turkish horse, and we
will use him conforming."

" By Saint George yon will choke him I " said Long
Allen ; " and, besides, it is a sin to throw away upon a
heathen dog as much wine as would serve a good Chris-
tian for a treble night-cap."

".Thou know'at not the nature of these Turks and

the ^\

ird. I

ood ^

THE TALISSIAN. 3!t

jiiigans. Long Allen," replied Henry Woodslall ; " I tf:ll
tliee, man, that this Sagon of Cyprus will set his brains
a-spinning, just in the opposite direction that they went
whirling in the dancing, and so bring him, as it were, to
himself again. — Choke ? he will no more choke on it than
Ben's black bitch on the pound of butter."

"And for grudging it," said Tomalin Blacklees, " why
shouldst thou grudge the poor paynim devil a drop of
drink on earth, since thou know'st he is not to Jiave a
drop to cool the tip of his tongue through a long eter-
nity?"

" That were hard laws, look ye," said Long Allen,
"only for being a Turk, as his father was before hira.
Had he been Christian turned heathen, I grant you the
hottest corner had been good winter quarters for hira."

" Hold thy peace, Long Allen," said Henry Wood;,lall ;
" I tell thee that tongue of tliine ia not the shortest limb
about thee, and I prophesy that it will bring thee into
disgrace with Father Francis, as once about the black-
eyed Syrian wench. — But here comes the horn. — Be
active a bit, man, wilt thou, and just force open his teuth
with the haft of thy dudgeon-da^er."

" Hold, hold — he is conformable," said Tomalin ; " see,
see he signs for the goblet — give bim room, boys. Oop
sei/ es, quoih the Dutchman — down it goes like lamb'a-
wool! Nay, they are true topers when once ihey begin
— your Turk never coughs in his cup, or stints in his
liquoring."

In fact, the dervise, or whatever he was, drank, or at
least seemed to drink, the large flagon to the veiy bottom
at a single pull ; and when he took it from his lips, after
the whole contents were exhausted, only uttered, with a
deep sigh, the words Allah kerim, or God is mei-cifid.

L

40 WATEELEY NOVELS.

There was a laugh among lie yeomen who witnessed tbm I
pottle-deep potation, so ohstreperous, as to rouse audi
disturb the King, who, raising his finger, said, angrily,,'
"How, knaves, no respect, no observance?"

All were at once hushed into silence, well acquainted '
with the temper of Richard, which at some times admitted
of much militarj iamiliarily, and at others exacted the
most precise respect, although the latter humour wat
much more rare occurrence. Hastening to a more revereut ■
distance Irom tlie royal person, thej attempted to drag I
along widi them the marabout, who, exhausted apparently I
by previous fatigue, or overpowered by the potent draught 1
he had just swallowed, resisted being moved from the ]
spot, both with struggles and groans.

" Leave hira alill, ye fools," whispered Long Allen to hia i
mates ; " by Saint Christopher, you will make our Dickon j
go beside himself, and we shall have hia dagger presently J
fiy at our costards. Leave him alone, in less than a j
minute he will sleep like a dormouse."

At the same moment, the Monarch darted another ii
patient glance to the spot, and all retreated in haslet I
leaving the dervise on the ground, unable, as it seemed,
to stir a single limb or joint of his body. In a moment
afterward, all was as still and quiet as it had been before
the intrusion.

THE XALISU.

CHAPTER XXI.

Foe the space of a quarter of an hour, or longer, afler
the incident related, all remained perfectly quiet in the
front of the royal habitation. The King read, and mused
in the entrance of hia pavilion— behind, and with hia back
turned to the same entrance, the Nubian slave still burn-
ished the ample pavesse — in front of all, at an liimdred
paces distant, the yeomen of the guard slood, sat, or lay
extended on the grass, attentive to their own sports, but
pursuing them in silence, while on the esplanade betwixt
them and the front of the tent, lay, scarcely to be distin-
guished from a bundle of rags, the senseless form of the
marabout.

But the Nubian had the advantage of a mirror, Irom
the brilliant reflection which the surface of the highly
polished shield now afforded, by means of which he be-
held, to iiis alarm and surprise, that the marabout raised
his head gently from the ground, so as to survey all
around liini, moving with a. well-adjusted precaution,
which seemed entirely inconsisteat with a state of ebviety.
He couched hia head instantly, as if satisfied be was un-

L

42 WAVEKLET K07KI.S.

observed, and began, with the elighlest posnibli: appi
nncQ of ¥01111)1817 effort, to drag himself, as if by c
ever nearer and nearer 16 tbe King, but stopping, ■■
reniaitiing fixed at intervals, like the spider, which, i
in<{ towurdd her object, collapses into apparent lifelessness,
when she tliinkB she is the subject of observation. Tliis
ejiecies of movement appeared suspiciona to tbe Ethiopian,
who, on his part, prepai-ed himself; as quietly as possible,
to interfere, the instant Ihat interference should si
bo necessary.

Tbe mai'about meanwhile glided on gradually and iion J
pereeptibly, serpent-like, or raiher snail-like, till he w
about ten yards' distance from Kiehai-d's person, wIie%'J
starting on hia feel, he sprung forward with the bound of
a tiger, stood at the King's back in less than an instant^
and brandished aloft the cangiar, or poniard, which he
had hidden in his sleeve, ffot the presence of his whole
ai-my could have saved their heroic Monarch — but t
motions of the Nubian bad been as well calculated a
those of the enthusiast, and ere the latter could f
the former caught his upUlled arm. Turning his fanat-
icfil wrHlh upon what thus unexpectedly interposed be-
twixt hira and his object, tiie Charegile, lor such was ihe
seeming marabout, dealt the Nubian a blow with the
dagger, which, however, only grazed his arm, while iha
far superior strength of the Ethiopian easily dashed him
to the ground. Aware of what had passed, Richard bad
now arisen, and with little more of surprise, anger, or in- I
terest of any kind in his countenance, than an ordinary ]
man would show in brushing off and crushing an intra*
sivc wasp, caught up the stool on which he had been sit»
ting, and exclaiming only, " Ha, dog I " daslied almost to
pieces the skuU of ihe assassin, who uttered twice, ones

nnkbar ! " — God i,

! in a broken tone, ihe word.; " Allah
vi<^rious — and expired at the King's

"Te are careful warders," said Richard (o his archers,
in a tone of scornful reproach, as, aroused by the bustle of
what had passed, in terror and tumult they now rushed into
his tent ; — " watchful sentinels ye are, to leave me lo lio
such hangman's work with my own hand. — Be silent all
of you, and cease your senseless clamour ! saw ye never
a di:ad Turk before ? — Here — cast that carrion out of the
camp, strike the head from the trunk, and stick it on a
lance, taking care lo turn the face to Mecca, that lie may
^he easier tell the foul imposlor, on whose inspiralion he
■ame Jiilher, how he has sped on his errand. — For ihee,
my swart and silent friend," he added, turning to the
Eihiopian — " But how's this ? — thou art wounded —
tnd with a poisoned weapon, I warrant me, for by
lorce of slab so weak an animal as that could scarce
Jope to do more than raze the lion's hide, — Suck the
xiiion from his wound, one of you — the Tenom is harm-
less on the lips, though fatal when it mingles wilh the

The yeomen looked on each other confusedly and with
'lesilation, the apprehension of so strange a danger pre-
/ailing with those who feared no other.

" How now, sirrahs,"' continued the King, " are you
Jainty-Iipped, or do you fear death that you dally

" Not the death of a man," said Long Allen, to whom
the King looked as he spoke, " but melhinks I would not
die like a poisoned rat for the sake of a black chattel
there, that is bought and sold in a market like a Martle>

L

of sutkiug poison,
he said, Go lo, swallow s~

1 do that

" His Grace speaks
lered anotlier yeoman,
gooseberry ! "

" Nay," said Richard, " I never bade
wliich I would not do myaelf."

And, witliout farlher ceremony, and in spile of the
general expoatulaliona of those around, and the respectful
opposition of the Nubian himself, the King of England
applied his lips to the wound of ihe blacit slave, irealing
with ridicule all remonstrances, and overpowering all
resistance. He had no sooner intermitted his singular
occupation, than the Nubian started from him, tmd, cast-
ing n scarf over bia arm, intimated by gestures, as firoi
ic purpose as they were respectful in manner, his deter-
raiualion not to permit the Monarch to renew so de-
grading an employment. Long Allen also interposed,
saying, that if it were necessary to prevent tlie King
engaging agiun in a treatment of (his kind, his own lips,
tongue, and teeth, were at the service of Ihe negro, (as
he called the Ethiopian,) and that he would eat him up
bodily, rather than King Richard's mouth should again
approach him.

Neville, who entered with other officers, added his
remonstrances.

" Nay, nay, make not a needless halloo about a hart
that the hounds have lost, or a danger when it is over,"
said the King — " the wound will be a trifle, for the blood
is scarce drawn — an angry cat had dealt a deeper scratch
— and for me, I have but to take a drachm of orvielan by
way of precaution, though it is needless."

Thus spoke Kicbard, a little ashamed, perhaps, of hia
own condescension, though sanctioned both by humanity
and gratitude. But when Neville continued to maka

TOE T,U.I311AN.

rumonsi ranees on the peril to his royal person, the King
imposed silence on him.

" Peace, T prithee — make no more of it — I did it but to
show these ignornnt prejudiced knaves how they might
help each other when these cowardly caitifls come against
us with sarbacanes and poisoned shafts.— But," he added,
" take thee ihia Nuhian to thy quarters, Neville — -I have
changed my mind touching him — let !iim be well cared
for — Bui, hark in thine ear — see that he escapes thee
not — there is more in him than seems. Let him have all
liberty, so that he leave Dot the camp.— And you, ye beef-
devouring, wine-swilling English mastiffs, get ye to your
guard again, and be sure you keep it more warily. Think
not yoti are now in your own land of fair play, where men
speak before they strike, and Bhake hands ere they cut
throats. Danger in our land walks openly, and with his
blade drawn, and defies the foe whom ho means to assault ;
but here, he challenges you with a silk glove instead of a
Bteel-gauntlet, cuts your throat with the feather of a
turtle-dove, slabs you with Ihe tongue of a priest's brooch,
or tbroltles you with the lace of my hidy'a boddice. Go
to — keep your eyes open and your mouths shut — drink
less and look sharper about you ; or I will place your
huge slomacha oa such short allowance, as would pinch
the stomach of a patient Scottinhman."

The yeomen, ahaslied and mortified, withdrew to their
post, and Neville was beginning to remonstraW with his
master upon the risk of passing over thus slightly their
negligence upon their duty, and the propriety of an esarn-
ple in a case so peculiarly aggravated as the permitting
one so suspicious as the marabout to approach within
dagger's length of his person, when Richard interrupted
him with " Speak not of it, Neville — wouldst thou havu

L

me avenge a petty risk to mjaelf more severely ihan the
loafi of England's banner ? It has been slolen — stolen by

blood 1
1 expounder
ow would T
ling one still
18 thou wilt,
honour that

I thief, or delivered up hy
been shed for it. — My sahle friend, Ihou ar
of mysteries, saith Ihe illustrious Soldan-
^ve thee thine own weight in gold, if, by
blacker than thyself, or by what other n
Ibou couldst show me the thief who did m
wrong. Wtat say'st thou ? ha ! "

The youth seemed desirous to speak, but uttered only
that imperfect sound proper lo his melancholy condition,
then folded his arms, looked on Ihe King with an eye of
intelligence, Rud nodded in answer to his question.

" How ! " said Richard, with joyful impatience, " Wilt
thou undertake to make discovery in this matter?"

The Nubian slave repeated the same motio

" But how shall we understand each other? " said the
King. — " Canst thou write, good follow ?"

The slave again nodded in absent.

" Give him writing-tools," said the King. " They
readier in my father's tent than mine — but they be s
where about, if this scorching climate have not dried up
(he ink, — Why, this fellow ia a jewel— a black diamond,
Neville."

" So please you, my liege," said Neville, " if I might
speak my poor mind, it were ill dealing in (his ware.
This man must be n wizard, and wizards deal with the
Enemy, who hath moat interest to sow tares among the
wheat, and bring dissension into our councils, and"

" Peace, Neville," said Richard. " Hollo to your
northern hound when he is close on the haunch of the
deer, and hope to recall him, but seek not to stop Flan-
tagenet, when he hath hope to retrieve liia honour.

'4

e- 1

THE TALISMAN.

Tlie slave, who duriog (his disi

0 liad been writin

io which Hrt he seemed skilful, now arose, and pressing
what he had writtea to liis brow, prostrated himself aa
usual, ere he delivered it into the King's hands. The
scroll was in French, although their interoouMO had
hitherto been conducted by Richard in the lingua
Franca.

" To Richard, the conquering and invincible King of
England, thia from the huuibleat of his slaves. Mysteries
are the sealed caskets of Heaven, but wisdom may devisa
means Io open the lock. Were your slave sUitioned ivhere
the leaders of the Christian host nere made to pass beibre
him in order, doubt nothing, that if he who did the injury
■whei-eof my King complains shall be among the number,
he may be made manifest in his ioiquity, though it be
hidden under seven veils."

" Now, by Saint George i " said Kiug Richard, " thou
hast spoken most opportunely. — Neville, thou kcow'sl, that
when we muster our troops to-morrow, the pi'inces have
agreed, that to expiate the affront offered to England in
the theft of her Banner, the leaders shotdd pass our new
standard as it floats on Saint George's Mount, and salute
it with formal regard. Believe me, the secret traitor will
not dare to abscDt himself from an expurgation so solemn,
lest his very absence should be matter of suBpicion.
There will we place our sable man of counsel, and, if his
art can detect the villain, leave me to deal with him."

"My Uege," said Neville, with the fnuikness of an
Eoglish baron, " beware what work you begin. Here is
the concord of our holy league unexpectedly renewed —
will you, u[>on such suspicion as a negro slave can instil,
tear open wounds so lately closed — or will you use the
Bolemn procession, adopted for the repai'ation of your

L

Lonour, and eslablishoient of ananimity amongst the dis-
cording princes, as ihe means of again finding oul new
cause of offence, or reviving ancient quarrels ? It were
scarce too strong lo say, this were a breach of Ihe decla-
ration your Grace made to the asEembled Council of the
Crusade."

"Neville," said the Slag, sternly interrupting him,
"thy zeal makes thee presumptuous and unmannerly.
Never did I promise to abstain from taking whatever
means were most promising, to discover the infamous
author of the attack on my hooour. Ere I had done ao,
I would have renounced my kingdom— my lite. All my
declarations were under this necessary and absolute quali-
fication ; — only, if Austria had stepped forth and owned
the injury like a man, I proffered, for the sake of Chris-
tendom, lo have forgiven him."

"But," continued the baron, anxiously, "what hope
that this juggling slave of SaJadin will not palter with
yonr Grace ? "

" Peace, Neville," said the King! "thou think'st thy-
self mighty wise, and art but a fool. Mind thou my
chaise touching this fellow — there is more in him than
thy Westmoreland wit can fathom. — And thou, swart and
silent, prepare to perform the feat thou hast promised,
and, by the word of a King, thou shalt choose thine own
recompense. — Lo, he writes again."

The mute accordingly wrote and delivered to the King,
with the same form as before, another slip of paper, con-
taining these words — " The will of the King is the law
to his slave— nor doth it become him lo ask guerdon for
discharge of his devoir."

"■Guerdon and devoir!" said the King, interrupting
himself as he read, and speaking to Neville in the Eng-

' ^"g- 1

THE TALIBMAir.

liah tongue with some empliasis on the words, — " These
Eastern people will profit by the Crusaders — they are
acquiring the language of chivalry ! — And see, Neville,
how discomposed that follow looks — were it not for his
colour, he would blush, I should not think it strange if
tie understood what I say — they are perilous linguialB."

" The poor slave cannot endure your Grace's eye,"
said Neville ; " it is nollaiiig more,"

" Well, but," contiuued the King, striking the paper
ivitb his finger, as be proceeded, " this bold scroll pro-
ceeds to aiiy, that our trusty mute is charged witii a mes-
sage from Saladin to the Lady Edith Plantagenet, and
craves means and opportunity to deliver it. What thiuk'st
thou of a request so modest — ba ! Neville ? "

" I cannot say," said Neville, " how sueh fi-eedora may
relish with your Grace ; but the lease of the messenger's
neck would be a short one, who should carry such a
request to the Soldan on the part of your Majesty."

" Nay, I thank Heaven that I covet none of his sun-
burnt bean ties," said Richard; "and for punishing this
fellow for discharging his master's errand, and that when
he baa juat saved my life — methinks it wei-e something
too summary. I'll tell thee, Neville, a secret — for,
although our sable and mute minister be present, he can-
not, thou know'st, tell it over again, even if he should
chance to understand us — I tell thee, that for this fort-
night past, I have been under a sli-ange spell, and I
would I were disenchanted. There has no sooner any
one done me good service, but lo you, be cancels his in-
terest in me by some deep injury ; and, on the other
hand, he who hath deserved death at my hands for some
treachery or some insult, is sure to be the very person,
of all others, who confers upon me some obligation that

L

50

wx-

sverbalsnces his demerits, and renders I'esplte of his eeu-
tence a debt due from my honour, Tliua. ihou aie'st, I
lun depriTcd of the best part of mj roya! fuiii^lion, since
I can neither punish men nor reward them. Until the
influence of thi^ disqualifying planet be passed away, I
will say nothing concerning tbe request of this our sable
attendant, save that it is an unusually bold one, and that
hh best chance of finding grace in our eyes will be, to
endeavour to make the discovery which be proposes to
achieve in our behalf. Sleanwhilc, Neville, do thou look
well to him, and let him be honourably cared for. — And
hark thee once more," he said, in a low whisper, "seek
out yonder hermit of Engaddi, and biing him to nte forth-
with, be he saint or savage, madman or sane. Let me
see him privately."

Neville retired from the royal tent, signing to the
Nubian to follow him, and much surprised at what he had
seen and heard, and especially at the unusual demeanour
of the King. In general, no task was so easy as to dis-
cover Richard's immediate course of sentiment and feel-
ing, though it might, in some cases, be difficult to calculate
its duration ; for no weathercock obeyed the changing
wind more readily, than the King bis guala of passioa.
But, on the present
usually constrained and
guess whether displeasure or kindness predominated in
V dependent, or in the looks
ime, he regarded him. The
ready service which the King had rendered to counteract
the bad effects of the Nubian's wound, might seem to
balance the obligation conferred on him by the slave,
when he intercepted the blow of the assassin ; but it
Beemed, as a much longer account remained to bo

mysterii

: seemed i
i it easy lo

tnduct towards his i
whh which, from time to

. be ^J

THE TALISMAN. 51

arranged between them, that the Monarch was doubtful
whether the settlement might leave him, upon the whole,
debtor or creditor, and that, therefore, he assumed, in thH
meantime, a neutral demeanour, which might suit with
either character. As for the Nubian, by whatever means
he had acquired the art of writing the European languages,
the King remained convinced that the English tongue at
least was unknown to him, since, having watched him
closely during the last part of the interview, he con-
ceived it impossible for any one understanding a con-
versation, of which he waa himself the subject, to have
so completely avoided tlie appearance of taking ac iu-
lerest in it.

Udr DarratiTe retrogrades to a period Ebortly previous
to the iacidcnts last mentioned, when, as the reader must
remember, the unfortunate Knight of the Leopard,
stowed upon the Arabian phyaieian by King Richard,
rather as a slave than in any other capacity, was exiled
from the camp of the Crusaders, id whose ranks he had
Eo often and so briUiantly distinguished himself. He fol-
lowed bis new master, for so we must now term the Hakim,^
to the Moorish tents which contained liis retinue and his'
property, with the stupefied feelings of one, who, fallen
from the summit of a precipice, and escaping unexpectedly
with life, is just able to drag lumself from the fatal spot,
but without the power of estimating the extent of the
damage which lie has sustained. Arrived at the tent, be
threw himself, without speech of any kind, upon a couch
of dressed buffalo's hide, which was pointed out to htm
by his conductor, and hiding his face betwixt his hand^,
groaned beavily, as if his heart was on the point of burst-
ing. The physician heard him, as he was giving orden>
to liis numerous domestics to prepare for their departure
the nest morning before daybreak, and, ra
compassion, interrupted bis occujtation, to sit down croaS'

^

: H

h

1

THE

53

legged, by the side of his couch, and adminisler comfort
Hccording to-the Orieotal manner.

"My friend," he said, "be of good comfort — for what
sayeth the poet — ' It is better that a man should be the
servant of a kind master, than the slave of his own
wild passion;!,' Again, be of good courage ; because,
whereas Taouf Ben Tagoube was sold to a King by b\a
brelhren, even to Pharaoh King of Egypt, thy King hath,
on the other hand, bestowed thee on one who will be to
thee aa a brother."

Sir Kenneth made an effort to thank the Hakim, but
his heart was too full, and the indistinct sounds which
accompanied his abortive attempts to reply, induced the
kind physician to desist from his premature endeavours
at consolation. He leA his new domestic, or guest, in
quiet, to indulge his sorrows, and having commanded all
the necessary preparations for their departure on the
morning, sat down upon the carpet of the (enl, and in-
dulged himself in a moderate repast. After he had thus
refreshed himself, similar viands were offered to the
Scottish Knight; but tl ou h 1 e al e let him under-
stand that the next day would h fe advanced ere they
would halt for the purpo e of fre hment, Sir Kenneth
could not overcome the d "i t wh h he felt against
sivallowing any nourishm nt and Co Id be prevailed
upon to (aste nothing, sa n ad ti ht of cold water.

He was awake, long after hi-. Arab host had performed
his usual devotions, and betaken himself to bis iepo=e,
nor had sleep visited him at the hour of midnight, when
a movement look place among the domestics, which,
though attended with no hpeech. and very litlle noise,
made him aware they were loading tJie camels and pre-
paring for departure. In the course of these prepara-

&i

WATKBI.XT VOTELS.

tioa?, the last per^n \vho was disturbed, exi^epling tha
physician himself, was the Knight of Srotiand, whom,
about three in the morning, a. sort of miy'or-domo, or
master of the household, acqu^uled that he must tinsc.
He did so, without farther answer, and followed him into
the moonlight, where stood the camels, most of wbict
were already loaded, and one only remaioed kneeliu
until ils burden should be completed.

A litlle apart from the camels stood a number of hors
ready bridled and saddled, and the Hakim himself, o
forth, mounted on one of them with as much agility atl
the grave decorum of his character permitted, and c
reeled another, which he pointed out, to be led towai
Sir Kenneth. An English officer was in attendance, t
escort them (hrotigb the camp of the Crusaders, and to^l
ensure their leaving it in safely, and all was ready for thai
departure. The pavitioa which they had left, was, in the '
meanwhile, struck with singular dispatch, and the tenU
poles and coverings composed the burden of the last
camel — when tlie physician, pronouncing solemnly the
verse of the Koran, " God be our guide, and Mohamnied'
our protector in the desert as in the watered field," th^J
whole cavalcade was instantly in motion.

In traversing the camp, they were challenged by tlie
various sentinels who maintained guard there, and suf-
fered to proceed in silence, or with a muttered curse
upon their prophet, as they passed the post of some more
zealous Crusader. At length, the last barriers n
behind them, and the pai-ty formed themselves for thQ>J
march with military precaution. Two or three horsemen
advanced in front as a vanguard ; one or two remained a
bowshot in the rear ; and, wherever the ground admitted,
others were detached to keep an outlook on the flanka.

65

In tliia mauuer they proceeded onwan], while Sir Ken-
neth, looking heck on the moonUglit camp, might noiv
indeed seem hanished, deprived at once of honour and
hberty, from ihe gUmmeritig banners under which he
had hoped to gain additional renown, and the tented
dweUings of chivaliy, of Chiistianity, and — of Edith
Plantagenet.

The Hakim, who I'ode by his side, observed, in hia
usual tone of sententious consolation — " It ia unwise to
look back when the journey lieth forward;" and as he
spoke, the horse of the kuight made such a periloua
stumble, as threatened to add a practical moral to the
tale.

The knight was compelled by this hint to give more
attention to the' management of his steed, which more
than once required the a^istance and support of the
check-bridle, although, in other respects, nothing could
be more easy at once, and active, than (he ambling pace
at which the animal (which was a mare) proceeded.

" The conditions of tbat horse," observed Ibe sententious
physician, "are like those of human fortune! seeing that
amidst his most swift and easy pace, the rider must guard
himself against a fall, and that it ia when prosperity is at
the highest, that our prudence should be awake and
vigilant to prevent misfortune."

The overloaded appetite loathes even the honeycomb,
and it is scarce a wonder that the knight, mortified and
harassed with misfortunes and abascmeut, became some-
thing impatient of hearing hia mii^ery made, at every
turn, the ground of proverbs and apothegms, howuver
just and apposite.

" Methinks," he said, rather peevishly, " I wanted no
additional illustration of the instability of fortune — though

L

58 -WAVKBLET ROTKLS.

I would thank thee. Sir Hakim, for thy choice of a s
for me, would the jade but stumble ^ effectoallj a
ODce lo break mj neck and her o

"My brother," answered the Arab sage, wiih impei^.
lurbabk gravity, "thou speakest as one of the foolbh.
Thou say'^t in thy heart, that the sage should have given
one, as his guest, the younger and better hor«c, and re-
served the old one for himself; but know that the defects
of the older steed may be compensated by the enei^es
of the youDg rider, whereas the violence of the young
horse requires to be moderated by the cold temper of the

So spoke the sage ; but neither to this observation did
Sir Kenneth return any answer which could lead to k
cuifti nuance of their conversation, and the physidan,
wearied, perhaps, of administering comfort to one who
would not be comforted, signed to one of bis retinae.

" Hassan," he said, " hast tion nothing wherewith to
beguile the way ? "

Hassan, story-teller and poet by profession, spurred np,
upon this summons, to exerdse hie calling. — " Lord of
the palace of life," he said, addressing the physician,
" thou before whom the angel Azrael spreadeth his wings
for flight — thou, wiser than Solimaun Ben Daoud, upon
whose signet was inscribed the beax name which con-
trols the spirits of the elements — forbid it, Heaven, that
while thou travellest upon the track of benevolence,
bearing healing and hope wherever thou comest, thine
own course should bo saddened for lack of the tale and
of the Bong. Behold, while thy servant is at thy side, he
will pour forth the treasures of his memory, as the foun-
tain sendeth her stream beside the pathway, for the re*
freafament of him that wolketh thereon."

^

■mE TALISMAN.

57

After this exordiuin, Hassan uplifted his voice, and
began a tale of love and magic, intermixed with feats of
warlike achievemeal, and ornamented with abundant
quotations from the Persian poela, with whose composi-
tions the orator seemed famihar. The retinue of the
physician, such excepted as were neMssarily detained in
aHendance oa the camels, thronged up to the narrator,
and pressed as close as deference for their master per-
mitted, to enjoy the delight which the inhabitants of iho
East have ever derived from this species of eshihi-

At another time, notwithstanding liis imperfect knowl-
edge of the language, Sir Kenneth might have been
interested in the recitation, which, though dictated by a
more exti-avagant imagination, and expressed in more
inSated and metaphorical language, bore yet a strong
resemblance to the romances of chivalry, then so fashion-
able in Europe. But as matters stood with him, he was
. scarcely even sensible that a man in the centre of the
cavalcade recited and sung, in a low tone, for nearly two
hours, modulating his voice to the various moods of pas-
sion introduced into the tale, and receiving, in return,
now low murmurs of applause, now muttered expresaiona
of wonder, now sighs and tears, and sometimes, what it
was far more difficult to extract from such an audience, a
tribute of smiles, and even laughter.

During the reeilalion, the attention of the exile, how-
ever abstracted by his own deep sorrow, was occasionally
awakened by the low wail of a dog, secnred in a wicker
enclosure saspended on one of the camels, which, as an
experienced woodsman, he had no hesitation in recognis-
ing to be that of his own faithful hound ; and from the
plaintive tone of the animal, he had no doubt that he was

L

WATHRLKT HOTXI,S.

!S assistance for liberty and rescue.

a*ty, and, in his way, i

" Alas ! poor Roawal," he

callest for aia
stricter bondage than thou
n to heed thee, c

a thy

and sympathy upon <

thyself an. I will nc

affection, since it would serve but to load our parting with

yet more bitterness."

Thus passed ihe hours of night, and the space of dim
liazy dawn, which forms the twilight of a Syrian morn-
ing. But when the very first hne of the sun's disk
began (o rise above Ihe level horizon, and when the very
flrat level ray shot glimmering in dew along the surface
of the desert, which the travellers had now attained, the
sonorous voice of El Hakim himself overpowered and
cut abort tlie narrative of tbo taleteller, while he caused
to resound along the sands the golemn summons, which
the muezzins ihunder at morning from the minaret of
every mosque.

"To prayer !— to prayer! — God is the one Grod. — To
prayer — to prayer ! Mohammed is the prophet of God.
— To prayer — to prayer ! Time is flying from you,—
To prayer — to prayer! Judgment is drawing- nigh to

In an instant each Mosleni cast himself from his horse,
turned his face towards Mecca, and performed with sand
an imitation of those ablutions, which were elsewhere
required to be made with water, while each individual, In
brief but fervent ejaculations, recommended himself to
the care, and his sins to the forgiveness of God and tbs
Prophet. Even Sir Kenneth, whose reason at once and
prejudices were offended by seeing his companiona in
that which he considered as an act of idolatry, ci^uld not
help respecting the sincerity of tlieir misgnided zeal} and

THE TALiaJIAN. 59

bfiing stimulattd by their fixvoiir to apply supplii-ulions lo
Heaven ia a. purer form, wondering, meanwhile, what
new-born feolinga could teach him to uccompany in
praj-er, though with vaiied invoi-alion, those veiy Sara-
cens, whose heathenish worship he had conctiveil a crime
dishonourable to the land in which high miracles had
been wrought, and where ihe dayalar of redemption had

The act of devotion, however, though rendered in such
sti'ange aociety, burst purely from liia nniural feelings of
ri^ligious duty, and had its usual effect in composing the
spirits, which had been long harassed by so rapid a sue-
cession of calamities. The sincere and earnest appi'oach
of the Christian to the throne of the Almighty teaches the
best lesson of patience under affliction ; since wherefore
should we mock the Deity with supplications, when we
insult him by murmuring under his decrees ? or how,
while our prayei-s have in every word admitted the
vanity and nothingness of the things of time in com-
paj-isou to those of eteniity, should we hope to deceive
the Searcher of Hearts, by permitting the world and
worldly passions to reaasume tlie reins even immediately
after a solemn address to Heaven? But Sir Kenneth
was not of these. He felt himself comforted and
Btrcngtheoed, and better prepared to execute or submit
to whatever his destiny might, call upon hiia to do or to

Meanwhile, Ihe party of Saracens regained their sad-
dles, and continued their route, and the tale-teller, Hassan,
resumed the thread of his narrative ; but it was no longer
to the same attentive audience. A horsenjan, who had
ascended some high ground on the right hand of the little
column, had returned on a speedy gallop (o El Hakim,

GO

VAVESLET HOTELS.

niiJ communicaled with Lim, Four or five more c
\ivn had then been dispatched, and the little band, whiofa. |
might consist of about twenty or thirty persons, began to 1
follow iliem with their eyes, as men from whose gestures, [
and advance or retreat, they were to augur good or evil.
llnssan, finding his audience inattentive, or being him.
self attracted by the dubious appeai-ances on the flank, I
etinled in hid song; and the march became sUent, save
when a camel-driver called out lo hia patient charge, op |
some anxious follower of the Hiikim communicated with, j
hia nest neighbour, in a hurried and low whisper.

This suspense continued until they had rounded a
ridge, composed of hillocks of sand, which concealed
from their main body the object that had created thia
alarm among iheir scouta. Sir Kenneth could now aee,
at the distance of a mile or more a dark object moving
rapidly on the bosom of the desert, which his esporieuced
eye recognised for a party of cavalry, much superior to
their own in numbers, and, from the thick and frequent
flashes which flung back the level beams of the rising
sun, it was plain that these were Europeans in their com-
plete panoply.

The anxious looks which the horsemen of £1 Hakim
now cast upon their leader, seemed to indicate deep ap-
prehension ; while he, with gravity as undisturbed as
when he called his followers lo prayer, detached two of
his besl^mounied cavaliers, with instructions to approach
aa closely as prudence permitted to those travellers of tha
desert, and observe more minutely their numbers, their
character, and, if possible, their purpose. The approach
of danger, or what was feared aa such, was like a stimu-
lating draught to one in apathy, and recalled Sir Eennetb
to himself and his situation^

u

-THE

6]

"What fear you from these Christian horsemen, for
guch they seem?" he snid to the Hakim.

"Fear!" said El Hakim, repeating the word disdain-
fully— "The sage fears nothing but Heaven — but ever
expects from wicked men the worst which Ihey can do."

"They are Christians," said Sir Kenneth, "and it ia
the time of truce — why should you fear a breach of
feith?"

" They are the priestly soldiers of the Temple,"
answered El Hakira, " whose vow limits them to know
neither truce nor faith with the worshippers of Islam.
May the Prophet blight them, both root, branch, and
twig ! — Their peace ia war, and theii- faith ia falsehood-
Other invaders of Palestine have their times and moods
of courtesy. The Lion Richard will spare when he has
conquered — the eagle Philip will ciose his wing when he
has stricken a prey — even the Austrian bear will sleep
when he is gorged ; but this horde of ever-hungry wolves
know neither pause nor satiety in their rapine. — See'st
thou not that ibey are deiaching a party from their main
body, and that they take an eastern direction ? Yon are
their pages and squires, whom they train up in their
accursed mysteries, and whom, as lighter mounted, they
send to cut us off from our watering-place. But they will
be disappointed ; I know the war of the desert yet better
than they."

He spoke a few words to his principal officer, and his
whole demeanour and countenance was at once changed
from the solemn repose of an eastern sage, accustomed
more to contemplation than to action, into the prom]>t and
proud expression of a gallant soldier, whose energies are
roused by tlie near approach of a danger, which he at
once foresees and despises.

r

G2 WATERI,EY KOVELS.

To Sir Kenneth's cyea tiie approaeli
cliff^i'enc aspei:!, and when Aduubec gaid
must larry dose by my aide,"
thi! negative.

"Yonder," lie said, "are i
men in wlioae society I have
Ihcir banner gleams the sign oi

tion — I caiinot fly from the Cross ia company with the
Crescent."

" Fool 1 " said the Hakim ; " their first action would be
to do thee to death, were it only to conceal their breach
of the Iruce."

" Of that I must tate my chance," replied Sir Ken-
neth ; " hut I wear not the Imnds of the infidels an instant
longer than I can cast them from me,"

" Then will I compel thee to follow me," said El H»-

" Compel ! " answered Sir Kenneth, angrily. " Wert
thou not my benefactor, or one who has showed will to be
such, and were it not that it is to thy confidence I o
freedom of theae hands, which thou roight'st have loaded
with fellers, I would show thee that, vinarraed as I am,
compulsion would he no easy task."

" Enough, enough," replied the Arabian physician, " we
lose time even when it is becoming precious."

So saying he threw lila arm alofi, and uttei'ed a loud
and shrill cry, aa a signal to those of his retinue, who in-
stantly dispersed themselves on the face of tjie desert, in
as many different directions as a chaplet of heads when
the string is broken. Sir Kenneth had no time to nota
what ensued ; for, at the same instant, the Hakim seized
the rein of his steed, and putting his own to its mettle,
bolli sprung fortli at once with the suddenness of light.

TlIE TALISSIAN. 63

and at a pilch of velocity which almost deprived the
Scottish knight of the power of respiration, and left: him
absolutely incapable, had he been desirous, to Lave
checked the career of his guide. Practised as Sir Ken-
neth was in horsemanship from hia earliest youth, the
speediest horse he had ever mounted was a tortoise in
comparison to those of the Arabian sage. Tbey spumed
the sand from behind them — they seemed to devour the
desert before them— miles flew away with minutes, and
yet their strengtli seemed unabated, and their respiration
as free as when they first started upon the wonderful
race. The motion, too, as easy as it was swift, seemed
more like flying through the air than riding on the earth,
and was attended with no unpleasant sensation, save the
awe naturally felt by one who is moving at such astonish-
ing speed, and the difficulty of breathing occasioned by
their passing through the air so rapidly.

It was not until after an hour of this portentous mo-
tion, and when all human pursuit was far, far behind, that
the Hakim at length relaxed his speed, and, slackening
the pace of the horaes into a hand gallop, began, in a
voice as composed and even as if he had been walking
for the last hour, a descant upon the excellence of his
coursers to the Scot, who, breathless, half blind, half deaf,
and altogether giddy, from the rapidity of thb singular
ride, hardly comprehended the words which flowed so
freely from his companion.

" These horses," he said, " are of the breed called tlia
Winged, equal in speed lo aught excepting the Borak of
the Prophet. They are fed on the golden barley of Ye-
men, mixed with spices, and with a small portion of dried
sheep's flesh. Kings have given provinces lo possess
:bem, and their age is active as their youth. Thou, Naz-

L

fit

wavbulkt motbeb.

arene, art the first, save a trae believer, tiiat ever had
nealh his loins one of this nobie i-ace, a. gift of the Prophet
himself to the blessed Ali, his kiusman and lieutenant,
well called the Lion of God. Time iaja his touch eo
lightly on these generous steeds, that the mare on which
thoQ now sitteat has seen five times five years pass over her,
yet retains her pristine speed and vigoui', only that in the
career the support of a bridle, managed by a hand more
experienced than thine, hath now become necessary.
May the prophet he blessed, who hath bestowed on the
true beUevers the means of advance and retreat, which
causeth their iroa-c!othed enemies to be worn out with: (
their own ponderous weight ! How the horses of yoD^»: ,
dog Templars must have snorted and blown, when they;
had toiled fetlock-deep in the desert for one-tweniielh
part of the space which these brave steeds have left be-
hind them, without one thick pant, or a drop of moisture
upon their sleek and velvet coats I "

The Scottish knight, who had now begun to recover hi»
breath and powers of attention, could not help acknowl-
edging in his heart the advantage possessed by these
Eastern warriors in a race of animals, alike proper for
advance or reti'eat, and so admirably adapted to the level
and sandy deserts of Arabia and Syria. But he did not
choose to augment the pride of the Moslem by acquies-
cing in his proud claim of superiority, and iherofore suf-
fered the conversation to drop, and looking around him,
could now, at the more moderate pace at which they
moved, distinguish that he was tu a country not unknown
to him.

The blighted borders and sullen waters of the Dead
Sea, the ragged and precipitous cliain of mountains aris-
ing on the left, (he two or three palms clustered together.

L_k.

65

foiTning ilie single green speck oq the bosom of ihe waste
wiidemess, — objects wbich, once seen, were stareely to be
Ibrgolten, — showed to Sir Kenneth that they were ap-
proaching the fountain tailed the Diamond of the Desert,
w]iich had been the ecene of his interview, on a former
occasion, with the Saracen Emir Sheerkohf, or Ilderiui.
In a few minutes they checked their horses beside the
spring, and the Hakim invited Sir Kenneth to descend
from horseback, and repo-ie himself as in a place of
safety. They unbridled their steeds, El Uakim observ-
ing that farther care of them was unnecessary, since they
would be speedily joined by some of the best mounted
among his slaves, who would do what farther was need-
ful.

" Meantime," he said, spreading aome food on the grass,
"eat and di'ink, and be not discouraged. Fortune may
raise up or abase the ordinary mortal, but the sage and
the soldier should liave minds beyond her control."

The Scottish knight endeavoured to testify his thanks
by showing himself docile ; but though ho strove to eat
out of complaisance, Ihe singular contrast between his
present situation, and that which he bad occupied on the
same spot, when the envoy of pHnces, and the victor in
combat, came like a cloud over his mind, and fasting, las-
siiude, and fatigue, oppressed Lis bodily powers. El Ha-
kim examined his hurried pulse, his red and inflamed eye,
his heated hand, and his shorteaed respiration.

" The mind," he said, "grows wise by watching, but her
sister, the body, of coarser materials, needs the support
of repose. Thou must sleep ; and that thou raay'st do
so to refreshment, thou must take a draught mingled with
this elixir."

He drew from his bosom a small crystal vial, cased in

I

Off

WATKRLBT irOTBI.8.

Bilvei filigree- work, and dropped ialo a litlle golden drink<
jng cup a iiinall portion of a dark-coioured fljid.

"This," he said, "is one of those productions which .
Allnli haili sent on earth for a blessing, though i
weakness and wickedness have sometimes converted it i
into a curse. It is powerful as the wine-cup of the Naz- ]
arene to drop the curtain on the sleepless eye, and to
relieve the burden of the overloaded bosom ; but when
applied to the purposes of indulgence and debauchery, it
rends the nerves, destroys the strength, weakens the in-
tellect, and undermines life. But fear uot thou to use ita
virtues in the time of need, for the wise man warms him
by the same firebrand with which the raadmaa bumeth '
the tent." •

" J liftve seen too much of thy skHl, sage Hakim," said
Sir Kenneth, " to debate thine best ; " and swallowed the
narcotic, mingled as it v-as with some water from the
spring, tlien wrapped him in the haik, or Arab cloak,
wliicli had been fastened lo his saddle-pommel, and, ac-
cording to the direclions of (he physician, slruCcIied him-
self at ease in the shade (o await the promised repose.
Sleep camo not at fii'st, but in her stead a train of pleas- i
ing yet not routing or awakening sensations. A stata '
ensued, in which, still conscious of his own identity anfl
liis own condition, the knight felt enabled to cODsider
them not only without alarm and sorrow, but aa compos-
edly as he might bave viewed the story of his misfortunes
acted upon a. stage, or rather as a disembodied spirit
might regard the transactions of its past existence. From
this slatiB of repose, amounting almost to apathy respect-
ing 'the past, his thoughts were carried forward to tfaa
future, which, in spile of all that existed to overcloud tho
* Some prspnration of opium f ecms to bo inliinntad.

1

G7

prospect, gliltered wilh such liues, as under much happier
auspices his UDSlimulated imagination had not been able
to produce, even in its most exalted state. Libeity, fame,
successful love, appeared to be the ceriain and not very
distant prospect, of the enslaved exiled, the dishonoured
knight, even of the deapairiog lover, who had placed hia
hopes of happiness so far beyond the prospect of chance,
in her wildest possibilities, serving to countenance his
wishes. Gradually as the intellectual sight became o
clouded, these gay visions became obscure, like the dying
hues of sunset, until they were at last lost in total obliv-
ion ; and Sir Kynneth lay extended at the feet of El
Hakim, to all appearance, but for his deep respiration, aa
inanimate a corpse, as if hfe had actually departed

WAVERIET NOVELS.

CHAPTER xsrn.

Till Uie beirilileclng

When the Knight of the Leopard awoke from hia long
and protbund repose, he found himself in circumstancea
BO differetit from those in which he had Iain down to
sieep, that he doubted whether he was not atill dreaming,
or whether the scene had not been changed hy magic
Instead of the damp grass, he lay on a couch of more
than Oriental luxury, and some kind hands had, during
his repose, stripped him of the cassock of chamois which
he wore under his armour, and substituted a night dresa
of the finest linen, and a loose gown of silk. He had
been canopied only by the pahn-treea of the desert, but
now he lay beneath a silken pavilion, which blazed with
the richest colours of the Chinese loom, while a slight
curtain of gauze, displayed around his couch, was calcu-
lated to protect his repose from the insects, to which he
had, ever since his arrival in these climates, been a con-
stant and passive prey. He looked around, as if lo con-
vince himself that he was actually awake, and all that fell
beneath his eye partook of the splendoip' of his dormitory.
A portable bath of cedar, lined with silver, was ready for
usf , and steamed with the odours which had been used in

preparing il. On a small stan^ of ebony beside the
couch, Blood a silver vase, contiiintDg sherbet of the most
esquii^ite quality, cold as snow, and which the thirst that
followed the use of the strong narcotic rendered peculiarly
delicious. Still farther to dispel the dregs of intoxication
which it had left behind, the knight resolved to use the
bath, and experienced in doing so a delightful refresh-
ment Having dried himself with najikins of tiie Indian
wool, he would willingly have resumed his own coarse
garments, that he might go forth to see whether the
world was aa much changed without as within the place
of his repose. These, however, were nowhere to be
seen, hut in their place he found a Saracen dress of rich
malerials, with sahre and poniard, and all befitting an
emir of distinction. He was able to suggest no motive
to himself for this exuberance of care, excepting a sus-
picion tiiat these attentions were intended to shake him in
bis I'eligioDS profession ; as indeed it was well known that
the high esteem of the European knowledge and courage,
made the Saldan unbounded in his gifls lo those who,
having become his prisoners, had been induced to take
the turban. Sir Kenneth, therefore, crossing himself de-
voutly, resolved to set all such snares at defiauee ; and
that he might do so the more firmly, conscientiously de-
lermined to avail himself a& moderately aa possible of tha
attentions and luxuries thus liberally heaped upon him.
Still, however, he lelt his head oppressed and sleepy, and
aware, too, that his undress was not fit for appearing
abroad, he reclined upon the couch, and was again locked
in the arms of slumber.

But titis time bis rest was not unbroken ; for he was
awakened by the voice of the physician at the door of the
^nt, inquiring after his health, and whether he had rested

70 WATEKLET NOVELS.

BofficienUj. — "May I enter your lent?" he concladed^a
" for the curtain ia drawn before the entrance."

" The master," replied Sir Kenneth, determiiied i
show that he was not surprised into forgetfulness of fa
own condition, " need demand do permission to enter tl
tent of the slave."

"But if I come not as a master?" eitid £1 Hakim, sdU.l
without entering.

" The physician," answered the knight, " hath free ]
access to the bedside of his patient."

" Neither come I now aa a physician," replied El Ha-
kim ; " and therefore I still request permission, ere I I
come under the covering of thy tent."

" Whoever comes as a friend," said Sir Kenneth, "and I
Buch thoa hast hitherto shown thyself to me, the babita- 1
tion of the friend is ever open to him,"

" Yet once again," said the Eastern sage, after the pert- I
phrastical manner of his countrymen, " suppoaing that I I
come not as a friend ? "

" Come as thou wilt," said the Scottish knight, some* I
what impatient of this circumlocution, — " be what thou |
wilt— thou knowestwell it is neither in my power n
inclination to i-efiise thee entrance."

" I come then," said El Hakim, " as your ancient foe } I
but a fair and a generous one."

He entered as he spoke ; and when he stood before the |
bedside of Sir Kenneth, the voice continued to be that of
Adonbec the Arabian physician, but the form, ilress, and
features, were those of Ilderim of Kurdistan, called Sheer- ,
kohf. Sir Kenneth gazed upon him, as if he expected I
the vision to depart, like something created by his ima^ j
inatiun.

" Doth it so surprise thee," said Ilderim, " and thou a

i TALISMAN.

71

approved warrior, to sec thai a soldier knows somewhat
of the art of healing ?-^I say (o thee, Nazarene, that an
accomplished cavalier should know how to dress his steed
as well as how lo ride him ; how (o forge his sword upon
the stithy, as well as bow to use it in battle j how to
burnish his arms, as well as how to wear them ; and,
above all, how to cure wounds as well as how to inflict

As he spoke, the Chrislian knight repeatedly shut his
eyes, and while they remained closed, the idea of the
Hakim, wilh his long flowing dark robes, high Tartar
cap, and grave gestures, was present to his imagination ;
but so soon as he opened them, the graceful and richly-
gemmed turban, the light hauberk of steel rings entwisted
with silver, which glanced briUiantly as it obeyed every
inflection of the body, the features freed from their formal
expression, less swarthy, and no longer shadowed by the
mass of hair, (now limited to a well-trimmed beard,)
announced the soldier and not the sage.

" Art thou still so much surpriaed," said the Emir,
" and hast thou walked in the world with etich little ob-
servance, as to wonder that men are not always whnt they
seem ? — Tliou thyself — art thou what thou aeemest ? "

" No, by St. Andrew I " exclaimed the knight ; " for to
the whole Christian camp I seem a traitor, and 1 know

" Even so I judged thee," said Uderim, " and as we
had eaten salt together, I deemed myself bound to rescue
thee from death and contumely, — But wherefore lie yon
still on your couch, since the sun is high in the heavens ?
or are the vestments which my sumpter-camejs have
afforded unworthy of your wearing ? "

" Not unworthy, surely, but unfitting for it," replied

72

WATEH1.ET KOTKL8.

the Scot ; " give me the dress of a slave, no!)lc Ilderi
and I will don it with pleasure ; but I cannot brook to J
weai' the hahit of the free Eastern warrior, with the tiirban ^
of the Moslem."

" Nazarene," answered the Emii-, "thy nation so easily j
entertains sn^picion, that it may well render themselvea
suspected. Have I not told thee Ihnt Saladin desires no
converts saving those whom the holy prophet shall dis-
pose to snbmit themselves to his law ? violenee and
bribery are alike alien to his plan for exiending the trae
faith. Hearken to me, my brother. When the blind
man was miraculously restored to sight, the scales drop-
ped from his eyes at the Divine pleasure — think'st thou
that any earthly leech could have removed ihem ? No.
Such raediciner might have tormented the patient with
his instruments, or perhaps soothed him with his balsams
and cordials, but dark as-he was must the darkened man
have remained ; and it is even so with the blindness of
the underslanding. If there be those among the Franks,
who, for the sake of worldly lucre, have assumed the
turban of the Prophet, and followed the laws of Islam,
with their own consciences be the blame. Themselves
sought out the bait — it was not flnng to them by the
Soldan. And when they sliall hereafler be sentenced, as
hypocrites, to the lowest gulf of hell, below Christian and
Jew, magician and idolater, and condemned to eat the
fruit of the tree Yaeoun, which ia the heads of demons —
to themselves, not to the Soldan, fihall their gnilt and
their punishment be attributed, "Wherefore wear, with-
out doubt or scruple, the vesture prepared for yoo, since
if you proceed to the camp of Saladin, your own native
dress will expose you to troublesome observation, and
) insult."

"Iflffi li> llie cawp of Saladin ? " said Sir Kenneth,
repealing Ihe words of ihe Emir; "Alas! am I a free
agent, and ralher must 1 not go wherever your pleasure

"Thine own will may guide thine own motions," said
the Emir, "as freely as the wind which moveth the dust
of the desert in what direction it chooseth. The noble
enemy who met, and well-nigh mastered my sword,
cannot become my slave like him who has crouched be-
neath it. If wealth and power would tempt thee to join
our people, I could ensure thy possessing them ; but the
man who refused the favours of Ihe Soldan when the
axe was at liis head, will not, I fear, now accept them,
when I tell him he has his free choice."

" Complete your generosity, noble Emir," said Sir
Kenneth, "by forbearing to show me a mode of requital,
which conscience forbids me to comply with. Permit me
rather to express, as bound in courtesy, ray gratitude for
this most chivalrous bounty, this undeserved generosity."

"Say not undeserved," replied the Emir Ilderim;
" was it not through thy conversation, and thy acconnt
of the beauties which grace the court of the Melech Eic,
that I ventured me thither in disguise, and thereby pro-
cured a sight the most blessed that 1 have ever enjoyed
— that I ever shall enjoy, until the glories of Paradise
beam on my eyes ? "

" I understand you not," said Sir Kenneth, colouring
alternately, and turning pale, as one who felt that the
conversation was taking a tone of the most painful deli-

" exclaimed the Emir. "If the
flight I saw in the tent of King Richard escaped thine
observation, I will account it duller than the edge of a

74

WAVBSI.E.r VOYBLS.

buffoon's wooden falchion. True, thou wert undtt f
leiice of death at the time; but, in my case, had my head
been dropping from the trunk, the last strained glances
of my eyeballs had dislmguished with delight such a
vision of loveliness, and the head would have rolled itself
towards the incomparable houns, to kiss with its quiver- |
ing lips the hem of their vestments. — Yonder rojalty of
England, who for her superior loveliness deserves to be
Queen of the universe— what tenderness in her blue eye I
— what lustre in her tresses of dishevelled gold ! — By
the tomb of the prophet, I scarce think that the bouri
who shall present to me the diamond cup of immortali^,
will deserve so warm a caress ! "

" Saracen," said Sir Kenneth, sternly, " thou speakest
of the wife of Richard of England, of whom men think
not and speak not as a woman to be won, but aa a Queen i
to be revered."

" I cry you mercy," said the Saraeen, " I bad forgot-
ten your superstitious veneration for the sex, which you
consider rather fit to be wondered at and worshipped,
than wooed and possessed. I warrant, since thou ex-
aclest 6U(jh profound respect to yonder tender piece of
frailty, whose every motion, step, and look, bespeaks her
very woman, less than absolute adoration must not be
yielded to her of the dark tresses, and nobly speaking
eye. She, indeed, I will allow, hath in her noble port
and majestic mien something at once pure and firm — yet
even she, when pressed by opportunity and a forwai\^
lover, would, I warrant thee, thank him in her heart,
rather for treating her as a mortal tliau as a goddess."

" Respect the kinswoman of Creur de Lion ! " said Sit
Kenneth, in a tone of unrepressed anger.

t her ! " answered the Emir in scorn

THB TALIBMAN. 75

ihe Caaba, and i;' I do, it shall be ratlicr as the bride of
Saladin."

" The Infidel Soldan is unworthy to salute even a spot
that has been pressed by the foot of Edith Plaotagenet ! "
exclaimed the Christian, springing fnim his couch.

"Ha! what said the Giaour?" exclaimed the Emir,
laying his hand on hts poniard hilt, while his forehead
glowed like glanciog copper, and the muscles of hia lips
and cheeks wrought till each curl of hia beard seomed to
twist and screw itself, as if alive with instinctive wrath.
But the Scottish knight, who had stood the lion-anger of
Richard, was unappalled al the tiger-Hke mood of the
chafed Saracen.

" What I have said," continued Sir Kenneth, with
folded arras and dauntless look, " I would, were my hands
loose, raaialatn on foot or horseback against all mortals ;
and would hold it not the most memorable deed of my
life to support it with my good broadsword a.\
of these sickles and bodkins," pointing at tlie curved
sabre and small poniard of (he Emir.

The Saracen recovered his composure as the Christian
6poke, so far as to withdraw his hand from his weapon,
as if the motion had been without meaning ; but still con-
tinued in deep ire.

" By the sword of the prophet," he said, " which is the
key both of Heaven and Hell, he little valuea his o
life, brother, who uses the language thou dost ! Believe
me, that were thine hands loose, as thou term'st it, on«
single true believer would find them so much to do, that
thou wouldst soon wish them fettered again in manacles
of iron."

" Sooner would I wish them hewo o
blades I " replied Sir Kenneth.

' by the shoulder-

i.

76 VATKBLET NOTSLS.

" Well. Thy hands are bound at preseol," said tlit
Sai'accn, in a more amicable lone, " bound by thine own
gcDtle sense of courtesy, nor have I any pi'csent purpose
of setting them at liberty. "We have proved each olher'a
Btrenglh and courage ere now, and we may again meet
in a fair field; — and shame befall him who shall be the
first to part from his foeman ! But now we are friends,
and I look for aid from thee, rather than hard terms or

" We are friends," repeated the knight ; and there waa
a pause, during which the fiery Saracen paced the tnnt,
like the lion, who, afler violent irritation, is said to take
that method of cooling the d is temperature of his blood,
ere he stretches himself !o repose in his den. The colder
European remained unaltered in posture and aspect ; yet
he, doubtless, was also engaged in subduing the angry
feelings which had been so unexpectedly awakened.

" Let us reason of this calmly," said (he Saracen; "I
am a physician, as thou kuow'st, and it is written, that
he who would have his wound cured, most not shrink
when the leech probes and tents it. Seest thou, I am
about to lay my finger on the sore. Thou lovest llus
kinswoman of the Melech Ric — Unfold the veil that
shrouds thy thoughts — or unfold it not if thou wilt, for
mine eyes see through its coverings."

" I loved her," answered Sir Kenneth, after a pauge,
" as a man loves Heaven's grace, and sued for her favour
like a sinner for Heaven's pardon."

"And you love her no longer?" said the Saracen.

"Alas 1 " answered Sir Eennetli, " I am no longer
worthy to love her. — I prithee cease this discourse — thy
tvords are poniards to me,"

" Pardon me but a moment," coutiaued Ilderim. " When

(hou, a poor and obscure soldier, didst bo boldly and so
highlj fix thine affection, tell mc, hadst thou good hope
of its issue?"

"Love exists not without hope," replied the knight;
" but mine was as nearly allied to despair, as that of the
sailor swimniing for his life, who, as he annnounts billow
after billow, catches by inleri'als some gleam of the
distant beacon, which shows bim there ia land in sight,
though his sinking heart and wearied limbs assure him
that he shall never reach it.''

"And now," said Ilderim, " these hopes are sank — that
solitary light is quenched for ever ? "

" For ever," answered Sir Kenneth, in the lone of an
echo from the bosom of a ruined sepulchre.

"Methinks," said the Saracen, "if all thou lackest
were some such distant meteoric glimpse of happiness as
thou hadat formerly, thy beacon-light might be rekindled,
thy hope fished up from the ocean in which it has sunk,
and thou thyself, good knight, restored to the exercise
and amusement of nourishing thy fantastic passion upon
a diet as unsubstantial as moonlight; for, if thou stoodst
to-morrow fair in reputation as ever thou wert, she whom
thou lovest will not be less the daughter of princes, and
the elected bride of Saladin."

" I would it BO stood," said the Scot, " and if I did
not "

He stopt short, like a man who is afraid of boasting,
under circumstances which did not permit his being put
to the test. The Saracen smiled as he concluded ths
sentence.

" Thou wouldst challenge the Soldan to single com-
bat ? " said he.

"And if I did," stud Sir Kenneth, haughtily, '■

J

78

WA,V8BLBT JTOTM-a.

■r the best furban that I

din's would neither be the first n
have couched lance at."

"Ay, but methinks the Soldan might regard it as too
unequal a mode of perilling the chance of a royal bride,
and the event of a great war," said the Eiuir.

" He may be met with in the front of battle," s^d th^
knight, his eyea gleaming wilh Ihe ideas which such a
thought inspired.

" He has been ever found there," ?aid Ilderim ; " nor is
it his wont to turn !iia horse's head from any brave en-
counter.— But it was not of the Soldan that I meant to
speak. In a word, if it will content thee to be placed in
such reputation as may be attained hy detection of the
thief who stole the Banner of England, I can put thee in
a fair way of achieving this task — that is, if (hou wilt be
governed; for what says Lokman, 'If the child would
walk, the nurse must lead him — if the ignorant would
understand, the wise must instruct.' "

"And thou art wise, Ilderim," said the Scot, "wise
though a Saracen, and generous though an infideL I
have witnessed that thou art both. Take, then, the guid-
ance of this matter ; and so thou ask nothing of me con-
trary to my loyalty and my Christian faith, I will obey
thee punctually. Bo what thou hast said, and take toy
life when it is accomplished."

"Listen thou to me, then," said lie Saracen. "Tby
noble bound is now recovered, by the blessing of that
divine medicine which healetb man and beast, and by
his sagacity shall those who assailed him be discov-

"Ila!" said the knight, — "methinks I comprehend
tliee — I was dull not to think of this ! "

"But tell me," added the Emir, "haat thou any fbl-

TJIE

79

0 the camp, by whom ihe a

lowers or retainers ii
be known ?

"I dismissed," said Sir Kenneth, "my old altendaot,
(by patieDt, with a varlet that waited on him, at the time
when I expected to suffer death, giving him letters for
my friends in Scotland — there are none other to whom
the dog is familiar. But then my own person is well
known — my very speech will betray me, in a camp
where I have played no mean part for many months."

" Both be and thou shalt be di=guLsed, so aa to escape
even clo.se examination. — I lell thee," snicl the Saracen,
" that not thy brother in arms — not thy brother in blood
■ — shall discover thee, if thou be guided by my counsels.
TboQ bast seen me do matters more difficult — he that can
call the dying from the darkness of the shadow of death,
can easily cast a mist before the eyes of the living. But
mark me — there is still the condition annexed lo this
service, that thou deliver a letter of SaJadin to the niece
of the Melech Kic, whose name is as difficult to our
Eastern tongue and lips, as her beauty is delightful to our

Sir Kenneth paused before he answered, and the Sara-
cen observing his hesitation, demanded of him, " if he
feared to undertake this messa.ge?"

" Not if there were death in the execution," said Sir
Kenneth ; " I do but pause to consider whether it consists
with my honour lo bear the letter of the Soldan, or with
that of the Lad}' Edith to receive it from a heathen
prince."

" By the head of Mohammed, and by the honour of a
soldier — by the tomb at Mecca, and by the soul of ray
father," said the Emir, " I swear to thee that the letter is
written in all honour and respect. The song of the night-

I

80 WAVERLET NOVELS.

ingale will sooner blight the rose-bower she loves, than
will the words of the Soldan offend the ears of the lovely
kinswoman of England."

"Then," said the knight, "I will bear the Soldan's
letter faithfully, as if I were his bom vassal ; — under«
standing, that beyond this simple act of service, which I
will render with fidelity, from me of all men he can least
expect mediation or advice in this his strange love-suit.''

** Saladin is noble," answered the Emir, " and will not
spur a generous horse to a leap which he cannot achieve.
—Come with me to my tent," he added, " and thou shalt
be presently equipped with a disguise as unsearchable as
midnight; so thou may'st walk the camp of the Nazarenes
as if thou hadst on thy finger the signet of the Giaougi."*

4f Perhaps the same with Gjges.

CHAPTER XXIV.

SolUng oor cup, viU nuke our seiiw r^t
ITBBtidioinlj tha dranghb which wB did thirat fixr;

The reader can now have little doubt who the Ethio-
pian elave really was, with what purpose he had sought
Eichanl's camp, and wherefore and with what hope be
now stood close to the person of that monarch, as, sur-
rounded by hia valiant peers of England and Normandy,
CoEur de Lion stood on the summit of Saint George's
Mount, with the Banner of England by his side, borne
by the most goodly person in the army, being his own
natural brother, "William with the Long Sword, Earl of
Salisbury, the offspring of .Henry the Second's amour
with the celebrated Rosamond of Woodstock.

From several expressions in the King's conversation
with NeTille on the preceding day, the Nubian was left
in anxious doubt whether his disguise had not been pene-
ij-ated, especially as that the King seemed to be aware in
what manner the agency of the dog was expected to dis-
cover the thief who stole the banner, although the cir-
f such an animal's having been wounded on

L

presence.

had been i
Nevertheless, s

arcc mentioned in Richard's
3 the King continued to treat
■ than his exterior required, the
Nubian remained uncerlain wliether he was or was not
discovered, and determined not to throw his disguise aside
voluntarily.

Meanwhile, the powers of the various Crusading
princes, arrayed under their royal and princely leaders,
swept in long order around the base of the little mound
and as those of each different country passed by, their
commanders advanced a step or two up the hill, and made
a signal of courtesy to Richard and to the Standard of
England, " in sign of regard and amity," as the protocol
of the ceremony heedfuUy expressed it, " not of subjec-
tion or vassalage." The spiritual dignitaries, who in
those days veiled not their bonneU to created being,
bestowed on the King and his symbol of command their
blessing instead of rendering obeisance.

Thus the long files marched on, and, diminished as they
were by so many causes, appeared Klill an iron host, to
whom the conquest of Palestine might seem an easy
task. The soldiei-s, inspired by the consciousness of
united strength, sat erect in their steel saddles, while it
seemed that the trumpets sounded more cheerfully shrill,
and the steeds, refreshed by rest and provender, chafed
on the hit, and trode the ground more proudly. On they
passed, troop after troop, banners waving, spears glancing
plumes dancing, in long perspective — a host composed of
different nations, complexions, languages, arms, and ap-
pearances, but all fired, for the lime, with the holy yet
romantic purpose of rescuing the distressed daughtiir of
Zion from her thraldom, and redeeming the sacred earth,
which more than mortal had trodden, from the yoki

roke f^, ^J

J

THE TALISMAX. 83

the unbelieving Pagan. And it must be owned, that if,
ia other circumstances, the species of courtesy rendered
to the King of England hy so many warriors, from whom
he claimed no aalural allegiance, had in it something that
might have been thought humiliating, yet the nature and
cause of the war was so fitted to his preeminently
chivalrous character, and renowned feats in arms, that
claims, which might elsewhere have been urged, were
there forgotten ; and the brave did willing homage to the
bravest, in an expedition where the most undaunled and

The good King was seated on horseback about half
way up the Mount, a morion on his head, surmounted by
a crown, which left his manly features exposed to public
view, as, with cool and considerate eye, he perused each
rank as it passed him, and returned the salutation of the
leaders. His tunic was of sky-coloured velvet, covered
with plates of silver, and his hose of crimson silk, slashed
with cloth of gold. By his side stood the seeming Ethio-
pian slave, holding the noble dog in a leash, such as was
used in woodcraft. It was a circumstance which attracted
no notice, for many of the princes of the Crusade had
introduced black slaves into their household, in imitation
of the barbarous splendour of the Saracens. Over the
King's head streamed the large folds of the banner, and,
as he looked to it from time to time, he seemed to regard
a ceremony, indifferent to himself personally, as im-
portant, when considered as atoning an indignity offered
to the kingdom which he ruled. In the background, and
on the very summit of the Mount, a wooden turret,
erected for the occasion, held the Queen Berengaria and
the principal ladies of the court. To this the King
looked from time to time, and then ever and anon his

L

B4 WATEKlxKT NOVELS.

ejca well" turned on the Nubian and (ho dog, but onljM
when such leader- approaclied, as, from circumstances rf.J
previous lU-will, he suspected of being accessary to i
theft of the standard, or whom he judged capable of ■

Thus, he did not look in that direction when Phiiip I
Augustus of France approached at the bead of bis aplei
did troops of Gallic chivalry — nay, he anticipaled tha ■
motions of the French King, by descending the Mount
as the latter came up the ascent, so that they met in the
middle space, and blended their greetings so gracefully,
that it appeared they met in fraternal equality. Tho^
sight of (he two greatest princes in Europe, in rank. ■
once and power, thus publicly avowing their concord,.]
called forth bursts of thuadering acclaim from the Cm- I
sading host at maJiy miles' distance, and made the roving ■!
Arab scouts of the desert alarm the camp of Saladju with J
intelligence, that the army of the Christians was in mo- 1
tion. Yet who but tjie King of king": can read the hearts I
of raonarchs ? Under this smooth show of courtesy, Rich- 1
ard nourished displeasure and suspicion against Philip,
and Philip meditated withdrawing himself and 'his bogt
from the army of the Cross, and leaving Richard to accom-
plish or fail in the enterprise with his own unassisted forces.

Eichai-d's demeanour was different when the dark-
armed knights and squires of ihe Temple chivalry ap- I
proached — men with countenances bronzed to Aaiatie I
blackness by the suns of Palestine, and the admirable I
Blatc of whose horses and appointments far surpassed I
even that of the choicest troops of France and England.
Tlie King cast a hasty glance aside, but the Nubian stood |
quiet, and his trusty dog sat at hLs feet, watching, with n |
sagacious yet pleased look, the ranks which ikiw passed '

iling himself
: benediction oa

THE TALISMAN.

lefore tlium. The King's look turned ag
filrous Templars, as the Grand Master, s
of his mingled character, bestowed 1
Richard as a priest, instead of doing b
military leader.

- " The naisproud and amphibious caitiff puts the monk
upon me," said Richard to ihe Earl of Salisbury. " But,
Lon^r-Sword, we will let it pass. A punctilio must not
lose Christendom the services of theae experienced lancea,
because their Tictories have rendered them overweening.
— Lo you, here comes onr valiant adversary, the Duke
of Auslria — mark his manner and bearing, Long-Sn'ord
— and thou, Nubian, let the hound have full view of him.
By Heaven, he brings his buffoons along with him !"

In fact, whether from habit, or, which ia more likely, to
intimate contempt of Ihe ceremonial he was about to com-
ply with, Leopold was attended by his sprtich-iprecher
and his jester, and as he advanced towards Richard, he
whistled in what he wished to be considered as an indiffer-
ent manner, though his heavy features evinced the siillen-
ness, mi-ted with the fear, with which n truant Btbool-boy
may be seen to approach his masler.

Aa Ihe reluctant dignitary made, with discompoaed and
sulky look, the obeisance required, the spruch-sprfcher
shook his baton, and proclaimed, like a herald, that, in
what be was now doing, the Archduke of Anstria was not
tg be held derogating from the rank and privileges of a
sovereign prince ; to which ihe jester answered with a
sonorous am^n, which provoked much laughter among the
bystanders.

King Richard looked Biore than once at the Nubian
and his dog ; but Ihe former moved not, nor did the latter
strain at the leash, so that Richard said to the ?Iave with

L

NOVELS.

aome acom, "Thy sueeess in this enterprise, my eabl
friend, even though (hou hast brought thy hound's :
ity to back thine own, will not, I fear, place thee high in
the rank of wizards, or much augment thy merits towards
our person."

The Kubian answered, as usual, only by a lowly ob<
Htnce.

Meantime the troops of the Marquis of Montsi
neit passed in oi-der before the King of England, ThiAfl
powerful and wily baron, to make the greater display of 1
his forces, bad divided them into two bodies. At thflr.l
head of the first, consisting of his vassals and follower:^ 1
and levied frora his Syrian posseasiooa, came his broth^a
Enguerrand, and be himself followed, leading on a gallan^V
band of twelve hundred Siradiota, a kind of light cavalry I
raised by the Venetians in their Dalmatian p os sessions, ,1
and of which they had entrusted Ihe command tt
Marquis, with whom the republic had many bonds of
nexion. These Stradiots were clothed in a feshion p
European, but partaking chiefiy of the Eastern fashioi
They wore, indeed, short hauberks, but had a
parti-coloured tunics of rich stuffs, with lai^e wide j
laloons and half-boots. On their heads were siraighl
upright caps, similar to those of the Greeks, and thq
carried small round targets, bows and arrows, scimelar^
and poniards. They were mounted on horses, carefuUi
selected, and well maintained at the expense of the Statofl
of Venice ; their saddles and appointments resembled'!
those of the Turks, and tliey rode in the same manner^ f
with short stirrups and upon a high seat. These troops 1
were of great use in akimiishing with the Arabs, though t
unable lo engage in close combat, like the iron-slieathed [
men-at-arms of Western and Northern Europe.

THE TALIS 51 AN. 87

Before ihis goodly band came Conrade, in the snme
garb will] the Stradiots, but of such rich sluff that he
seemed lo blaze with gold and silver, and the milk-while
}ilurae fastened in his cap by a clasp of diamondii, seemed
lall enough to sweep the clonds. The noble Bleed which
he reined bounded and caracoled, and displayed his spirit
and agility in a manner which might have troubled a less
admirable horseman than the Marquis, who gracefuUy
ruled him with the one hand, while the other diaplayed
the baton, whose predominancy over the ranks which he
led seemed equally absolute. Yet liia authority over the
Stradiots was more in show llan in substance ; for there
paced beside him, on an ambling palfrey of soberest
mood, a little old man, dressed entirely in black, without
beard or mustaches, and having an appearance altogether
mean and insignificant, when compared with the blaze of
splendour around him. But this mean-looking old man
was one of those deputies whom the Venetian government
sent into camps to overlook the conduct of the generals
to whom the leading was consigned, and lo maintain that
jealous system of espial and control which had long din-
tinguisbed the policy of the republic.

Conrade, who, by cultivating Richard's humour, had
attained a certain degree of favour with him, no sooner
was come within his ken than the King of England de-
scended a step or two to meet him, exclaiming, at the
same time, " Ha, Lord Marquis, thou at the head of the
fleet Stradiots, and thy black shadow attending thee as
usual, whether the sun shines or not 1 — May not one ask
thee whether the rule of the troops remains with the
shadow or the substance?"

Conrade was commencing his reply with a smile, when
Roswal, the noble hound, uttering a furious and savage

L

88 WATEBLST KOTBLS.

yell, sprung forward. The Nubian, at the same tim^ 1
slipped the leash, Aud IJ>^ liound, rushing on, leapt upoii'^
Courade's nohle charger, and seizing the Marquis by L
throat, pulled him down from the saddle. The plumed I
lider lay rolling □□ the eaad, and the frightened horse fled if
in wild career through the camp.

" Thy hound hath pulled down the right quarry, I v
mnt him," said (he King to the Nubian, "and I vo\
Saint Gieorge he is a stag of ten tynes ! — Pluck the dog I
off, lest he throttle liim."

The Ethiopian, accordingly, though not without di^<J
culty, disengaged the dog from Conrade, and fastened,
him up, still highly excited, and slruggling in the lensh.
Meanwhile many crowded to the spot, especially followera
of Conrade and offieera of the Slradiote, who, as they saw
their leader lie gazing wildly on the sky, raised him up
amid a tumultuary cry of — " Cut the slave and his hound
to pieces I"

But the voice of Kichard, loud and sonorons, waa
heard clear above all other exclamations — " He djea llie '
death who injures the hound I lie haih hut done hia
duty, after the aagaoily with which God and nature have
etidowed the brave animal. — Stand forward for a talse
traitor, thou Conrade, Marquis of Monscri-at I I impeacb
thee of treason,"

Several of the Syrian leaders had now come up, ,
and Conrade, vexation, and shame, and confusion strug- '
gling with passion in his manner and voice, exclaimed,
" What means this ? — With wliat am I charged ? — ^Why I
this base usage, and these reproachful terras? — Is thia '
the league of concord which England I'enewed but bo
lately?"

" Are the Princes of the Crusade turned hares or deert

THB TALiaSIAN. 89

in the eyes of King Kichard, that he should shp hounds
on ihem ? " said the sepulchral voice of th^ Grand Master
of the Templars.

" It must be some singular accident — some fatal mis-
take," said Philip of France, who rode up at the same

" Some deceit of the Enemy," eaid the Archbishop
of Tyre.

" A stratagem of the Saracens," cried Henry of Cham-
pagne— " It were well to hang up the dog, and put the
slave lo the torture."

" Let no man lay hand upon them," said Richard, "as
iie loves his own life ! — Conrade, stand forth, if tliou
darest, and deny iLe accusation which this mute animal
hath iu his noble instinct brought agaiast lliee, of injury
done to him, and foul scorn to England I "

" I never touched the banner," said Conrade, hastily.

" Thy words betray thee, Conrade ! " said Richard ;
"for how didst thou know, save from conscious guili, that
the question i^t concerning the banner?"

" Hast tiiou then not kept the camp in turmoil on that
core?" answered Conrade; "and dost thou

p prince and an ally a crime, which, alter all,

a. p b committed by some paltry felon for tlie ^ke
h g d bread ? Or wouldst thou now impeach a
ed rate the credit of a dog ? "

By this time the alarm was becoming general, so that
Philip of France interposed.

" Princes and nobles," he said, "yoii apeak in presence
of those whose swords will soon be at the ihroata of each
other, if they hear their leaders at such terms together.
In the name of Heaven, let us draw off, each hi* own
Iroops, into their separate quarters, and ourselves meet

L

90

WAVERtEr MOTXLS.

an liour Ijence in the Parilion of Couiipil, to take soi
order in this ne.w state of confusion."

" Content," said King Richard, " though I should hai
liked to have interrogated that caitiff while his gay doal
let was yet besmirched with sand — But the pleasure
France shall be ours in this malter."

The leaders separated as was proposed, each prii
placing himself at the head of his own force!
was heard on all sides the crying of war-cries, and the
sounding of gathering-notes upon bugles and trumpets, by
which the different stragglers were summoned to their
prince's banner; and the troops were shortly seen in mo.]
tion, each taking different routes through the camp to thw
own quarters. But although any immediate act of
lence was thus prevented, yet the accident which had
taken place dwelt on every mind ; and those foreigners)
who had that morning hailed Richard as the worthiest to
lead their army, now resumed their prejudices against hia
pride and intolerance, while the English, conceiving the
honour of iheir country connecled with the quarrel, of
which various reports had gone about, considered the na-
tives of other countries jealous of the fame of £nglai
and her King, and disposed to undermine it hy the mean*^
est arts of intrigue. Many and various were
spread upon the occasion, and there was one which averredi-'
that the Queen and her ladies had been much alarmed by.
the tumult, and that one of them had swooned.

The Council assembled at the appointed hour,
rade had in the meanwhile laid aside his dishonoured
dress, and with it the shame and confusion which, in s
of his talents and promptitude, had at first overwheli
him, owing to the strangeness of the accident, and sudden-'
aess of the accusation. He was now robed like a prin<

by
no>^^^H

lad ^^t

THE TALlSMAlf. 91

and entered the council-chamber attended by the Arch-
duke of Austria, the Grand Masters both of the Temple
and of the Order of Saint John, and several other poten-
tates, wbo made a show of supporting him and defending
his cause, chiefly perhaps from political motives, or be-
cause [hey themselves nourished a personal enmity against
Richard.

This appearance of union in favour of Conrade was far
from influencing the King of England. He entered the
Council with hia usual indifference of manner, and in the
same dress in which he had juat alighted from horseback.
He cast a careless and somewhat scornful glance on the
leaders, who had with studied affectation arranged ihera-
eelves around Conrade, as if owning his cause, and in ihe
most direct terma charged Conrade of Montserrat with
having stolen the Banner of England, and wounded the
fiiithful animal who stood in its defence, »

Conrade arose boldly to answer, and in despite, as
lie expressed himself, of man and brute, king or dog,
avouched hia innocence of the crime charged.

" Brother of England," said Philip, who willingly as-
sumed the character of moderator of the assembly, " this
is an unusual impeachment. We do not hear you avouch
your own knowledge of this matter, Jartber than your
belief resting upon the demeanour of (his hound towards
the Marquis of Montserrat. Surely the word of a knight
and a prince should bear him out against the barking of a
cur?"

" Royal brother," returned Richard, "recollect that (ho
Almighty, who gave the dog to be companion of our
pleasures and our toils, hath invested him with a nature
noble and incapable of deceit. He forgets neither friend
nor foe— remembers, and with accuracy, both benefit and

L

WATEEI-ET HOTELS.

nan's intellig

I may bribe a soldier (

injury. He liiith a aliare o
share of man's falsehood.

slay a man with his aworf, or a witness to take
false accusation ; but you cannot make a hound tear 1
benefuctor — he is the fiiend of man, save when man justly
incurs his enmity. Dress yonder Marquis in what pea-
cock-rabes you will — disguise his appearance — alter his
complexion with drugs and washes — hide him amidst an
hundred men — 1 wiH yet pawn my sceptre that the hound
detects him, and expreaaes his resentment, aa jou have
this day beheld. Thia ia no new incident, although 4 .
strange one. Murderers and robbers ha»e been, ere n
eonvicted, and suffered dealh under such evidence, i
men have aaid that the finger of God was in it. In thine '
own land, royal brother, and upon such an occasion, the
matter was tried by a solemn duel hetwixt the man and
the dog, as appellant and defendant in a challenge of
mnrder. The dog was victorious, the man was punished,
and the crime was confessed. Credit me, royal brother,
that hidden crimes have often been brougiit to light by the
teatimony even of inanimate substances, i
imimala for inferior in instinctive sagacity to the dog, whi
is the friend and companion of 01

" Such a duel there hath indeed been, royal brothep,fl
answered Philip, " and that in the reign of one o
predecCBsors, to whom God be gracious. Bat it v
the olden time, nor can we hold it a precedent fitting fiw
this occasion. The defendant in that case was a private
gentleman, of small rank or respect ; his offensiTe weapons
were only a club, his defensive a leathern jerkin. But |
we cannot degrade a prince to the disgrace of using s
rude arms, or to the ignominy of such a combat "
4 " I never meant that you should," said King Richard

THE TALISMAN'. 98

" it were foul play (o hazard the good liound's life against
that of sitch a double-faced traitor as this Coiirade hath
proved himself. But Ihere liea our own glove — we ap-
peal him to the combat in respect of the evidence we
brought forth against him — A king, at least, is more than
the mate of a marqnis."

Conraile ma.de do hasty effort to ^ize on the pledge
which Richard cast into the middle of the assembly, and
King Philip had time to reply, ere the Marquis made a
motion to lift the glove.

"A king," said he of France, "is aa much more than
a mal«h for the Marquis Conrade, as a dog would be less.
Royal Richard, this cannot be permitted. You are the
leader of our expedition — the sword and buckler of
Christendom."

" I protest against such a combat," said the Venetian
provedilore, "^ until the King of England shall have re-
paid the fifVy thousand bezants which he is indebted to
the republic. It is enough to be threatened with loss
of our debt, should our debtor fall by the hands of Ihe
pagans, without the additional risk of his being slfun
in brawls amon^t Christiana, concerning dogs and
banners."

"And I," sMd William with the I«ng Sword, Earl of
Salisbury, " protest in my turn against ray royal brother
perilling his life, which is the property of the people of
England, in such a cause. — Here, noble brother, receive
back your glove, and think only as if Ihe wind had blown
it from your hand. Mine shall lie in its stead. A king's
eon, though with the bar sinister on his shield, is at least
a match for this roarraozet of a Marquis."

"Princes and nobles," said Conrade, "I will not accept
of King Richard's defiance. He hath been chosen our

L

94

■WAVEHLET HOVELS.

leader against the Saraoena, and if his
answer the accusation of provoking an ally to the field o
a. quarrel so frivolous, mifie, at least, cannot endure tlie
reproach of accepting it. But touching his bastard
brother, William of Woodstock, or agitinat any other
who shall adopt, or shall dare to stand godfather to this
moat false charge, I will defend my honour in the liate,
and prove whosoever impeaches it a false liar."

" The Marquia of Montaeiral," aaid tlie Archbishop of
Tyre, " hath spoken like a wise and modei'ate gentleman ;
and melhinks thia controversy might, without dishonour^
to any party, end at this point."

" Methinks it might so terminate," said the King o
France, " provided King Richard will recall his accusa
tion, aa made upon over alight grounds,"

"Philip of France," answered Cceur de Lion, "m
words shall never do my thoughts so much injury.
have charged yonder Conrade as a thief, who, under
cloud of night, stole from its place the emblem of Eng-
land's dignity. I-still believe and charge him to be such;
and when a day is appointed for the combat, doubt not
that, since Conrade declines to meet us in person, I will
find a champion to appear in support of my challenge;
for thou, William, must not thrust thy long sword i
this quarrel without our special license,"

" Since my rank makes me arbiter in this m(»t u
happy matter," said Philip of Prance, "I appoint t
fifth day from hence for the decision thereof, by way a
combat, according to knightly usage— Richard, King o
England, to appear by his champion as appellai;
Conrade, Marquis of Montserrat, in his own person aa
defendant. Yet I own, I know not where to find neu-
tral ground where such a quarrel may be fought out; for

THE TALISMAN.

it must not be in tlie neighbourhood of this camp, where
the soldiers would make faction on the different sides."

" It were well," said Richard, " In apply to the gener-
osity of the royal Saladin, since, heathen aa he is, I liave
never known knight more fulfilled of nobleness, or to
whose good faith we may so peremptorily intrust our-
selves, I speak thus for those who may be doubtful of
mishap — for myself, wherever I see my foe, I make that
spot my battle-ground."

"Be it so," said Phihp; "we will make this matter
known to Saladin, although it be showing to an enemy
the nnhappy spirit of discord which we would willingly
hide from even ourselves, were it possible. Meanwhile, I
dismiss this assembly, aud charge you all, as Christian men
and noble knights, that ye let Ihia unhappy feud breed no
farther brawling in the camp, but regard it as a thing
solemnly referred to the judgment of God, to whom each
of you should pray that he will dispose of victory in the
combat according to tlie truth of the quarrel; and there-
with may His will be done I "

"Amen, Amen ! " was answered on all sides ; while
the Templar whispered the Marquis, " Conrade, wilt thou
not add a petition to be delivered from the power of the
dog, as the Psalmist hath it?"

" Peace, thou ! " replied the Marquis ; " there is

a revealing demon abroad, which may report, amongst
other tidings, how far thou dost carry the motto of iha
order — Feriatur Leo."

"Thou wilt stand the brunt of challenge?" said the
Templar.

" Doubt me not," said Conrade. "I would not, indeed,
have willingly met the iron arm of Richard himself, and
I shame not to confess that I rejoice to be free of his en-

m

WATEKLET KOVEIS.

counter. But, from hia bastard brother downward, die
man breathes not in his ranks whom I fear to meet."

" It is well you are so confident," continued the Tem-
plar ; " and in that case, the fangs of yonder hound have
done more to dissolve this league of princes, than either
thy devices, or the dagger of the Charegite. Seest thoB
how, under a brow studiously overclouded, Philip cannot
conceal the satisfaction which he feels at the prospect of
release from the alliance which sat so heavy on him ?
Mark how Henry of Champagne smiles to himself, like
a sparkling goblet of his own wine — and see the chuckling
delight of Austria, who thinks his quarrel is about to be
avenged, without risk or trouble of his own. Hush, ho
approaches — A most grievous chance, moat royal Austria,
that these breaches in the walls of our Zion "

"If thou meanest this Crusade," replied the Duke, "I
would it were cnimbled to pieces, and each were safe at
home ! — I speak thb in confidence,"

" Bui," said the Marquis of Montserrat, " to think this
disunion should be made by the hands of King Rjchord,
for whose pleasure we have been contented to endure so
much, and to whom we have been as submissive as slaves
to a master, in hopes that he would use his valour
against our enemies, instead of exercising it upon our
friends ! "

" I see not that he is so much more valorous than
others," said the Archduke, "I believe, had the noblo
Marquis met him in the lists he would have had the bet-
ter ; for though the islander deals heavy blows with the
pole-axe, he is not so very dexterous with the lance. I
should have cared little to have met him myself on our
old quarrel, had the weal, of Christendom permitted to
sovereign princes to breathe themselves in the lista-

i»i-^^

THE TAI.I8MAK.

97

And if thou desirest it, noble Mai'quis, I will myself be
your godfather in this combat."

"And I also," said the Grand Master.

" Come) then, and take your nooning in our tent, noble
BITS," said the Duke, "and well Bpeak of this buainesa,
over some right niermstein."

Tliey entered together accordingly.

"What said our palron and these great folks together?"
»aid Jonas Schivimker to bis companion, the tpruch-
sprecher, who liad used the freedom to press nigh to hia
master when the council was dismissed, while the jester
wuited at a more respectful distance.

" Servant of Folly," said the tpruch'Sprecher, " mod-
erate thy curiosity — it beseems not that I should tell to
thee the counsels of our master."

"Man of Wisdom, you mistake," answered Jonas;
" we ai-e both the constant attendants on our patron, and
it concerns us alike to know whether thou or 1 — Wisdom
or Folly, have the deeper interest in him."

"He told to the Marquis," answered the spruch-
sprecker, " and to the Grand Master, that he was aweary
of these wars, and would be glad he was safe at home."

" That is a drawn cast, and counts for notliing in the
game," said the jester ; "it was most wise to think thus,
but great folly to tell it to others — proceed."

"Ha, hem I" said the spruchsprecher ; "he next said
to them, that Richard was not more valorous than others,
or over dexterous in the tilt-yard."

" Woodcock of my side," said Schwanker ; " this was
egregious folly. What next?"

"Nay, I am something oblivious," replied the man of
wisdom, — "he invited them to a goblet of nierenstein."

" That hath a show of wisdom in it," said Jonas, " thou

98 WAVERLET NOVELS.

may's t mark it to thj credit in the meantime ; but an he
drink too much, as is most likplj, I will have it pass to
mine. Any thing more ? **

** Nothing worth memory," answered the orator, " only-
he wished he had taken the occasion to meet Richard in
the lists."

" Out upon it— out upon it ! " said Jonas — " this is such
dotage of folly, that I am wellnigh ashamed of winning
the game by it — Ne'ertheless, fool as he is, we will follow
him, most sage spruch-^precher^ and have our share of
the wine of merenstetn."

THB TALISMAN.

CBAPTER XXV.

At than, too, afa&!t hdore ;

When King Richard relumed to his teni, he com-
manded (he Nubian to be brought before him. Ho
entered with his lasual ceremonial reverence, and having
prostrated himself, remained standing before the King, ia
the attitude of a slave awaiting the orders of
It was perhaps well for him, that the preservation of hia
character required his eyes to be fixed on ihe ground,
since the keen glance with which Richard for some time
surveyed him in silence, would, if fully encountered,
have been difficult to sustain.

" Thou canst well of wood-craft," said the King, after
a pause, "and hast started thy game and brought him to
bay, as ably as if Tristrem himself had taught thee.*
But this is not all — he must be brought down at force, I
myself -would have liked to have levelled my hunting-

* A nniversBl trndition, ascribed to Str Tridtrem, fiunon! ten his
loTfl of the feir Queen YBenlt— the lawa ooncaraing the practica of
woodcrafl, or I'wieri*, a» it wna called, being those llmt related to tho
nilea of the chase, vera deemed of mucti cmueqifflnce dariiig th*
middle ages.

L

140

WAVSBLET HOTBLS.

Spear at him. There are, it seems, respects which ^
prevent this. Thou art about to return to the camp of
the Soldan, bearing a letter, requiring of his coartesy to
appoint neutral ground for the deed of chivalry, and,
should it consist n'ilh his pleasure, to concur with ua in i
witnessing it. Now, speaking conjecturally, we think I
tbou might'st find in that canjp some cavalier, who, for I
the love of truth, and his own augmentation of honour, j
will do battle with thia same traitor of Montaerrat."

The Nubian raised his eyes and fixed them on
King, wilh a look of eager ardour; then raised them to
Heaven with such solemn gratilude, that the water soon
glistened in them — then bent bis head, as aflirming what
Bichard desired, and resumed his usual posture of sub-
missive attention,

" It is well," said the King ; " and I see thy desire to ]
oblige me in this matter. And herein, I must needs say,
lies the excellence of such a servant as thou, who haat
not speech either to debate our purpose, or to require ex-
planation of what we have determined. An English
eerving-man, in thy place, had given me his dogged
advice to trust the combat with some good lance of
my household, who, from my brother Longsword down-
wards, are all on fire to do battle in my cause ; and a
chattering Frenchman had made a thousand attempts to
discover wherefore I look for a champion from the camp
of the infidels. But thou, my silent agent, canst do mine
errand without questioning or comprehending it ; with
thee, to hear is to obey."

A bend of the body, and a genuflection, were the
appropriate answer of the Ethiopian to these observa-

" And now to another point," said the King, and s^^k- ,

THE TALISMAN. 101

ing suddenly and rapidly. — " Have you yet seen Edith
PJanlagenel ? "

The mute looked up as in the act of being about Ic
Dpeak, — nay, bis lips had begnn to utter a distinct nega-
tive,— when the abortive attempt died away in the im-
perfect murmura of the dumb.

" Why, lo you there ! " said ibe King. " The very
Bound of the name of a royal niaideo, of beauty so sur-
passing as that of our lovely cousin, seems to have power
enough well nigh lo make the dumb speak. Wliat
miracles then might her eye work upon such a subject !
I will make the experiment, friend slave. Thou shalt
see this choice beauty of our court, and do the errand of
the princely Soldan."

Again a joyful glance — again a genuflection — but, as
he arose, the King laid his hand heavily on his shoulder,
and proceeded with stern gravity thus. — " Let me in one
thing warn you, my sable envoy. Even if thou shouldst
feel that the kindly influence of her, whom thou art soon
to behold, should loosen the bonds of thy tongue, pres-
ently imprisoned, as tlie good Soldan expresses it, within
the ivory walls of its castle, beware how thou changest
thy taciturn character, or speakest a. word in her presence,
even if thy fiowers of utterance were to be miraculously
restored. Believe me, that I should have thy tongue ex-
tracted by the roots, and its ivory palace, that is, I
presume, its range of teeth, drawn out one by one.
Wherefore, he wise and silent still."

The Nubian, so soon as the King had removed his
heavy grasp from his shoulder, bent his head, and laid his
hand on his lips, in token of silent obedience.

But Kichard again laid his hand on him more gently,
■md added, " This behest we lay on thee as on a slave.

I

102

WAVEHLET N0VEL9.

Wert Ihou knight and gentleman, we would require thine
honour in pledge of thj silence, which is one especial
conditioa of our present trast."

The Ethiopian raised bis body proudly, looked full at
Ihe King, and laid his right hand on his heart.

Riehard then suramoned his chamberlain.

" Go, Neville," he said, " wilt this slave, to the tent of
our royal consort, and say it is our pleasure that he have
an audience — a private audience — of our cousin Edith.
He is charged with a commission to her. Thou canst
show him the way also, in case he requires thy guidance,
though (hou may'st have observed it is wonderful how
familiar he already seems to be with Ihe purlieus of our
camp. — And thou, loo, friend Ethiop,'' the King con-
tinued, "what thou dost, do quickly, and return hither
within the half hour."

"I stand discovered," thought the seeming Nubian, as,
with downcast looks and folded arms, he followed the
hasty stride of Neville towards the tent of Queen Beren-
garia. — "I stand undoubtedly discovered and unfolded to
King Richard; yet I cannot perceive that his resentment
is hot against me. If I understand his words, and surely
it is impossible to misinterpret them, he gives me a noble
chance of redeeming my honour upon the crest of this
false Marquis, whose guilt I read in his craven eye and
quivering lip, when the charge was made against him. —
Roswal, faillifuUy hast thou served thy master, and most
dearly shall thy wrong be avenged ! — But what is the
meaning of my present permission to look upon her,
whom I had despaired ever to see again ? — And why, or
liow, can the royal Planlagenet consent that I should see
his divine kinswoman, either as the messenger of the
heathen Saladin, or as the guilty exile whom he so lately

THE TAT,ISUAir.

103

espelled flora liis camp — his audacious avowal a? the
afi'ection which is his pride, being the greatest enhance-
ment of his guiit ? That Kichard should consent to her
receiying a letter from an infidel lover, hy the hands of
one of such disproportion ed rank, are either of (hem cir-
cumstances equally incredible, and, at the same time, in-
consistent with each other. But Richard, when unmoved
by his heady passions, is libera!, generous, and truly
noble, and as such 1 wiU deal with him, and act according
to his instructions, direi-t or implied, seeking to know no
more than may gradually unlblJ itself wilhont my offi-
cious inquiry. To him who has given me so brave an
opportunity to vindicate my tarnished honour, I owe
acquiescence and obedience, and painful as it may be, the
debt shall be paid. And yet," thus the proud swelling
of his heart farther suggested, — " CcEur de Lion, as ha is
called, might have measured the feelings of others by his
own. / urge an address to his kinswoman ! I, who
never spoke word lo her when I look a royal prire from
her hand — when I was accounted not the lowest in feats
of chivalry among the defenders of the Cross! /ap-
proach her when in a base disguise, and in a servile habit
— and, alas I when my actual condition is that of a slave,
with a spot of dishonour on that which was once my
shield I 7 do this! He little knows me. Tet I thank
him for the opportunity which may make us all better
acquainted with each other."

As he arrived at this ■conclusion, they paused before
the entrance of the Queen's pavilion.

They were of course admitted by the guards, and
Neville, leaving the Nubian in a small apartment, or
antechamber, which wa^ but too well remembered by
biiD. passed into that which was used as the Queen's

L

104 WATEKLEY NOTELB.

presence-chamber. He communieated his royal master'a |
pleasure in a low and respectful tone of voice, very j
different from the blunlness of Thomas de Vans, to J
whom Kichard was every thing, and the rest of the
court, including Berengaria herself, was nothing. A
burst of laughter followed the coram uni cation of Lia ]
errand.

" And what like is the Nubian slave, who comes i
bassador on such an errand fi-om the Soldan ? — a Negro, J
De Neville, ia he uol ? " said a female voice easily recog-
nised for that of Berengaria. " A Negro, is he not, De 1
Neville, with black skin, a head curled like a ram's, a
nose, and blubber lips — ha, worthy Sir Henry?"

" Let not your Grace forget the shin-bones," said J
another voice, " bent outwards like the edge of a Saracen

" Bather like the bow of a Cupid, since he comes upoq ,
a lover's errand," said tiie Queen. " Genlle Neville, ihou
ail ever prompt to pleasure us poor women, who have SO
little to pass away our idle moments. We must see thia
messenger of love. Turks and Moors have I seen many,
but Negro never."

" I am created to obey your Grace's commands, bo you
will bear me out with my sovereign for doing eo," an-
swered the debonair knight. " Yet, let me assure your
Grace, you will see somewhat different from what yoa
expect."

" So much the better — uglier yet than our imaginations
<mi fancy, yet the chosen love-messenger of this gallant
Soldan ! "

" Gracious madam," said the Lady Calista, " may I im- \
plore yoo would permit the good knight to carry thia ,
messenget straight to the Lady Edith, to whom hie cre»

THG TALiauur.

dentiab are addressed ? We hare alreadj escaped bardl^r
for Bueh a frolic."

" Escaped ? " — repeated the Qucei

TifuUy.

'Yet

ighl, Calista, in thy caution — let thia Nu-
bian, as thou caUest him, first do his errand to our cousin
— Besides, he is mule too — is he not ?"

" He is, gracious inadain," answered the knight.

'' Royal aport haye these Eastern ladies," said Berea-
garia, " attended by those before whom they may say
aiiytbing, yet who cau report nothing. Whereas, in our
camp, as the Prelate of St. Jude'a is wont to say, a bird
of the air will carry the matter."

" Because," eald De Neville, " your Grace forgets that
you speak within canvas walls."

The voices sunk on this observation, and afler a little
whispering, the English knight again returned to the
Ethiopian, and made him a sign to follow. He did so,
and Neville conducted liitn to a pavihou, pitched some-
what apart from tiiat of the Queen, for the accommoda-
tion, it seemed, of the Lady Edith and Ler attendanl^
One of her Coptic maidens received the message commu-
nicated by Sir Henry Neville, and, in the space of a very
few minutes, the ifubian was ushered into Edith's pres-
ence, while Neville was lefl on the outside of the tent.
The slave who introduced him withdrew on a signal from
her mistress, and it was with humiliation, not of the pos-
ture only, htit of the very inmost soul, that the unfortu-
nate knight, thus strangely disguised, threw himself on
one knee, with looks bent on the ground, and arms folded
on his bosom, like a criminal who expects his doom.
Edith was clad in the same manner as when she received
King Richard, her long transparent dark veil hanging
around her like the shade of a summer night on a beau-

106

■WArEHtET SOVBLS.

tlful landscape, disguising and rendering obscure the
beauties whicli it could not hide. She held in her hand
a silver lamp, fed with some aromatic spirit, which burned
with unusual brightness.

When Edith came within a step of the kneeling and
motionless slave, she held the Ught towards his face, as if
to peruse hia features more attentively, then turned from
him, and placed her lamp so aa to throw the shadow of
hia face in profile upon the curtain which hung beside.
She at length spoke in a voice composed, yet deeply sor-
rowful.

" Is it you ? — Is it indeed you, brave Knight of the
Leopard — gallant Sir Kenneth of Scotland — is it indeed
you ? — thus servilely disguised — thus surrounded by aa
hundred dangers?"

At hearing ibe tones of his lady's voice thus unexpect-
edly addressed to him, and in a tone of compassion ap-
proaching to tenderness, a corresponding reply rushed to
the knight's lips, and scarce could Richard's commands
and his own promised silence, prevent his answering, that
the sight he saw, the sounds be just heard, were sufficient
to recompense the slavery of a life, and dangers which
threatened that life every hour. He did recollect him-
self, however, and a deep and impassioned sigh was hb
only reply to the high-born Edith's question.

'■ I see — I know I have guessed right " — continued
Edith. "I marked you from your first appearance near
the platform on which I stood with the Queen. I knew,
too, your valiant hound. She is no true lady, and is
unworthy of the service of such a knight as thou art,
from whom disguises of dress or hue could conceal a
faithful servant. Speak, then, without fear to Edith
Flantagenet. She knows how to grace in adversity the

107

good knight who served, honoured, and did deeds of arms
in her name, when fortune befriended him. — Still silent!
Is it fear or shame that keeps thee so ? Fear should be
unknown to thee ; and for shame, let it remain with thoso
who have wronged thee."

The knight, in despair at being obliged to play the
mute in an interview so iniei'csting, could onlj express
his mortification by sighing deeply, and laying his finger
upon his lips. Edith stepped back, as if somewhat dis-
pleased.

" What ! " she said, " the Asiatic mute in very deed, as
well as in attire ? This I looked not for — Or thou may'st
scorn me, perhaps, for thus boldly acknowledging that I
have heedfuUy observed the homage thou hast paid me ?
Hold no unworthy thoughts of Edith on that account
She knows well the bounds which reserve and modesty
prescribe to high-born maidens, and she knows when and
how far they should give place to gratitude — to a sincere
desire that it were in her power to repay services and
repair injuries, arising from the devotion which a good
kniglit bore towards her. — Why fold thy hands together,
and wring them with so much passion ? — Can it be," she
added, shrinking hack at the idea — " that their cruelty
has actually deprived thee of speech ? Thou shakest thy
head. Be it a spell — be it obstinacy, I question thee no
farther, but leave thee to do thine errand after thine own
fashion. I also can be mute."

The disguised knight made an action as if at once la-
menting his own condition, and deprecating her displeas-
ure, while at the same time he presented to her, wrapped,
as usual, in fine silk and cloth of gold, the letter of the
Soldan. She look it, surveyed it carelessly, then laid it
aside, and bending her eyes once more on the knight, she

L

WATEBLBl' I

ri a low tone — "Not even a word to do thine erraod 2

He pressed both his hands to his brow, as if to intimoto I
the pain which he felt at being nnable to obey her ; but '
ahe (urned from him io anger.

" BegouG ! " she said. " I have spoken enough — too
much— to one who will not waste on me a word in reply.
Begone !— and say if I have wronged thee, 1 have done
penance ; for if I have been the unhappy means of drag- ■
ging thee down from a station of honour, I have, in this I
interview, forgotten my own worth, and lowered myself
in thy eyes and in my own."

She covered her eyea with her hand, and seemed deeply I
agitated. Sir Kenneth would have approached, but sho I
waved him back.

" Stand off! thou whose aottl Heaven hath suited to ita I
new station ! Aught leas dull and fearful than a elavisli I
mute had spoken a word of gratitude, were it but to rec- I
oncile me to my own degradation. Why pause you ?— I
begone ! "

The disguised kaight ohnost involuntarily looked to- ]
wards the letter as an apology for protracting his stay.
She snatched it up, saying in a tone of irony and con
tempt, "I had forgotten — the dutiful slave waits an an
Bwer to his message. — How's this — from the Soldan 1 "

She hastily ran over the contents, which were expressed I
both in Arabic and Preneb, and when she had done, she 1
laughed in bitter anger.

" Now this passes imagination ! " she said ; " no jong- \
leur can show so deft a transmutation ! His legerdem
can transform zechins and bezants into doits and me
vedies ; but can his art convert a Christian knighl, e
esteemed among the bravest of the Holy Crusade, into

109

tlie duat-kiMing slave of a heathen SoUan — the bearer
of a Paynim'a insolent proposala to a. Christian maiden —
nay, forgetting the laws of honourable chivalry as well aa
of religion ? But it avails not talking (o the willing slave
of a heathen hound. Tell your master, when his scourge
shall have found thee a tongue, that which thou hast seen
me do." — So saying, she threw the Soldan's letter on the
ground, and placed her foot upon it — "And say to him,
that Edith Plantagenet scorns the homage of an' unchris-
tened Pagan."

With these words she was about io shoot from the
knight, when, kneeling at her feet in bitter agony, he ven-
tured to lay his hand upon her robe, and oppose her
departure.

" Heard'st thou not what I said, dull slave ? " she said,
turning short round on him, and speaking with emphasis;
" tell the heathen Soldan, thy master, that I scorn his suit
as much as I despise the prostration of a worthless rene-
gade to religion and chivalry — to Glod and to his lady ! "

So saying, she hurst from him, tore her garment from
his grasp, and left the tent.

The voice of Neville, at the same time, summoned him
from without. Eshausted and stupefied by the distress
he had undergone during this interview from which he
could only have extricated himself by breach of the en-
gagement which be had formed with King Richard, the
unfortunate fcnigbt staggered rather than walked after the
English baron, till they reached the royal pavilion, before
whicli a party of horsemen had just dismounted. There
was light and motion within the tent, and when Neville
entered with bia disguised attendant, they found the king,
with several of his nobility, engaged in welcoming those
who were newly arrived.

L

TTATERLEr

CHAPTER SXVI.

il the pride or btKb,

The frank and bold voice of Richard waa heard in
joyoua grafulation.

" Thomas de Vaux ! stout Tom of the Gills ! by the
head of King Henry, thou art we!(?ome to me as ever
was flask of wine to a joUj toper ! I should scarce have
known how to order my battle array, unless I hod thy
bulky form in mine eye as a landmark to form my ranks
upon. We shall have blows anon, Thomas, if the eaints
be gracious to us ; and had we fought in thine absence,
I would have looked to hear of thy being found hanging
upon an elder-tree."

" I should Lave borne my disappointment with more
Christian patience, I trust," said Thomas de Vault, " tlian
to have died the death of an apostate. But I thank your
Grace for my welcome, which is the more generous, as it

4

THE TAIISMAN.

in

respects a banquet of blows, of which, saving your pleas-
ure, you are ever too apt lo engross the larger share;
but here have I brought one, to whom your Gi-ace will,
I know, give a yet warmer welcome."

The person who now stepped forward to make obel-
sance to Richard, was a young man of low slatui'e and
slight form. His dress was as modest as his figure was un-
impressive, but he bore oa his bonnet a gold buckle, with
a gera, the lustre of which could only be rivalled by the
brilliancy of the eye which the bonnet shaded. It was the
only striking feature in his countenance ; but when once
noticed, it uniformly made a strong impression on the
spectator. About his neekthere hung in a scarf of sky-
blue silk a wrest, as it was called, — ihat is, the key with
which a harp is tuned, and which was of solid gold.

This personage would have kneeled reverenlly to Rich-
ard, but the monarch raised him in joyful haste, presided
him to his bosom warmly, and kissed him on eilher side
of the face.

" Blondel de Kesle h ex la m d joyfully — " wel-
come from Cyprus, my k n of n n els ! — welcome to
(he King of England, wh r- h own dignity more

highly than he does th e I h e b en sick, man, and,
by my soul,'I believe was fo la k of thee ; for, were
I half way to the gate of H n methinks thy strains
could call me back. — And wha ne my gentle master,
from the land of the lyre ■' Any thing freah from tbe
trouveurs of Provence ^ — any tbing from the minstrela
of merry Normandy ? — above all hist thou thyself been
busy ? — But I need not aik thee — -ihau canst not be idle,
if thou wouldst — thy noble qualilie arc I ke ft fire burn-
ing within, and compel thee to pour thy elf out iii musia
and song."

L

WATKBLET SOTBLS.

re learned, and sometljing I have
swered tlie celebrated Blondel, wilh
hick all Ricbard's enthusiastic od-
ad been, unable to banish.
, man — we will hear ibee instantly,"

", at the service of my royal pat-

"bot your MnjcBty," he added, look*
n the table, "seems more importantly

112

" Something I ha
done, nohtc King," ai
a retiring modesty, i
miration of his skill 1

" We will hear thei
said the Eing ; — then touching Ulondel'a shoulder kindly,
he added, " that is, if thou art not fatigued with thy joor-
noy : for I would sooner ride my best horse to death, than
injure a note of thy voice."

ron," said Blonde! ;

ing at some papers o)

engaged, and the hour waxes late."

" Not a whit, man, not a wbil, my dearest Blondel. I
did hut sketch an array of battle against the Saracens, a
thing of a moment — almost as soon done as the routing
of them."

" Methinks, however," said Thomas de Vaus, "it were
not unfit to inquire what wldiera your Grace hath to
array. I bring reports on that subject from Ascalon."

" Thou art a mule, Thomas," said the King — " a very
mule for dulness and obstinacy ! — Come, nobles — a ball
— a hall ! — range ye around hira — Give Blondel the
tabouret — Where ia his harp-bearer? — or, soft^-lend Idm
my harp, bia own may be damaged by (be journey."

" I would your Grace would take my report," said
Thomas de Vaux. " I have ridden far, and have more
list lo my bed than to have my ears tickled."

" Thy ears tickled ! " said the King ; " that must be
with a woodcock's feather, and not with sweet sounds.
Hark thee, Thomas, do tiiine ears know the singing of
Blondel from the braying of an ass ?"

" In faith, my liege," replied Thomas, " I cannot well

113

my , but setting Blondel out of the question, wlio is a
born gentleman, and doubtless of high acquirements, I
shall never, for the sake of your Grace's question, look
on a minstrel, but I shall think upon an ass."

"And might not j-our manners," said Richard, "have
excepted nic, who am a gentleman bom as well as Blon-
del, and, like liim, a guild-hrother of the Joyeuse science ? "

" Your Grace should remember," said De Vaux, amil-
ing, " that 'tia useless asking for manners from a mule."

" Mast truly spoken," said the King ; " and au ill-con-
ditioned animal thou art — But come hither, master mule,
and be unloaded, that thou may'st get thee to thy litter,
without any music being wasted on thee. — Meantime, do
thou, good brolher of Satisbiiry, go to our consort's tent,
and tell her that Blondel has arrived, with his budget
fraughl with the newe.^t minstrelsy — Bid her come hither
instantly, and do thou escort her, and see that our cousin,
Edith Planlagenel, remain not behind."

His eye then rested for a moment on the Nubian, with
that expression of doubtful meaning, which his counte-
nance usually displayed when he looked at him.

"Ha, our silent and secret messenger returned? —
Stand up, slave, behind the back of De Neville, and thou
sbalt hear presently sounds which will make thee bless
God that he afflicted thee rather with dumbness than
deafness."

So saying, he turned from the rest of the company
towards De Vaux, and plunged instantly into the mili-
lary details which that baron laid before him.

About the time that the Lord of Gilsland had finished
his audience, a messenger announced that the Queen and
her attendants were approaching tlie royal tent. — "A
fiask of wine, ho!" said the King; "of old King Isaac's

114

■WiVEELKT NOVEIB.

long-saved Cjpnis, which we won when we slormed
Famago-ta — fill to the slout Loi'd of Gilsland, gentles — a
more careful ami faithful servant never had anj prince."

"1 am glad," said Thomas de Vaos, " that your Grace
finds the mule a useful slave, though his voice be lees
musical than horse-hair or wire."

"What, thou canat not yet digest that qui[f of the
mule?" said Kicliard. "Wash it down with a brimming
flagon, man, or thou wilt choke upon it. — Why, e& — well
pulled ! — and now I will tell thee, thou art a soldier aa
well as I, and we must brook ench other's jesla in the
hall, as each otlier's blows in the tourney, and love each
other the harder we hit. By my I'iulli, if thou didst not
hit me as hard as I did thee in our late encounter, thou
gavest all thy wit lo the thrust. But here lies the dif-
ference betwiitt thee and lilondel. Thou art but my
comrade — I might say my pupil— in the art of war;
Blondel is my master In the science of minstrelsy atid
music. To thee I permit the freedom of intimacy—
him I must do reverence, as to my superior in his art.. J
Come, man, be not peevish, but remain and hear our ^
glee."

" To see your Majesty in such cheerful mood," said, j
the Lord of Gilsland, » by iny faith, I could rema
Blondel had achieved the great Romance of King Arthur,
which lasts for three days."

" We will not tax your patience bo deeply," said the
King. " But see, yonder glare of torches without showB
that our oouaort approaches — Away to receive her, man,
and win thyself grace in the brightest eyes of Christen-
dom.— Nay, never slop lo adjust thy cloak. See, thoa I
host let Neville come between the wind and the sails of
thy galley."

115

" Ha was never before me in the field of battle," said
De Vaux, not greatly pleased to see himself anticipated
by the more active service of the chamberlain.

" No, neither he nor any one went belbre thee (here,
my good Tom of the Gills," said the King, "unleaa it
was ourself now and then."

"Ay, my liege," said De Vaiii, " and let us do justice
to the unfortunate ; — the unhappy Knight of the Leopard
hath been before me loo, at a season ; for, look you, he
weigh? lesg on horseback, and so "— — -

"Hush!" said die King, inleiTupting him in a per-
emptory tone — "not a word of him," — and instantly
stepped forward to greet his royal consort; and when
he had done so, he presented to her Bloudel, as king of
minstrelsy, and his master in the gay science. Bereo-
gavia, who well knew tbal her royal husband's passion for
poetry and music almost equalled his appetite for warlike
fame, and that Blondel was his especial favourite, took
anxious care to receive bim with all (he flattering distinc-
tions due to one whom the King delighted to honour.
Yet it was evident that, though Blondel made suitable
returns to the compliments showered on hira something
loo abundantly by the royal beauty, he owned with deeper
reverence and more humble gratitude the simple and
graceful welcome of Edith, whose kindly greeting ap-
peared to him, perhaps, sincere in proportion to its brevity
and simplicity.

Both the Queen and her royal husband were aware of
this distinction, and 'Richard, seeing his consort somewhat
piqued at the preference assigned to his cousin, by which
perhapa he himself did not feel much gratilied, said in
the hearing of both, — " We minstrels, Berengaria, as
ihou may'st see by the bearing of our master Blondel,

116 WAVEHLET NOTSLa.

Day more reverence to a severe judge, like our kina-
woman, ihan to a kindly parljal friend, like Ihyself, who
ia willing to take our worth upon trust."

Edith was moved by thia sarcasm of Ler royal kins-
man, and hesitated not to reply, that, " to be a harah tmd
severe judge, was not an attribute proper to her alone of
all the Planlagenefa."

She had perhaps said more, having some touch of ■flie
temper of that house, which, deriving their name and cog-
nizance from the lowly broom, (^Planla Genista,) assumed
as an emblem of humility, were perhaps one of the proad-
est families that ever ruled in England; but her eye,
when kindling in her reply, suddenly caught those of the
Nubian, although lie endeavoured to conceal himself be-
hind the nobles who were pre=ent, and she sunk upon a
seat, turning so pale, that the Queen Berengaria deemed
herself obliged to call for water and essences, and to go
through the other ceremonies appropriate to a lady's
swoon. Richai'd, who better estimated Edith's strength
of mind, called to Blondel to assume his seat and com-
mcDce his lay, declaring that minstrelsy was worth every
other recipe to recall a Plantagenet to life. — " Sing us,"
he said, " Ibat song of the Bloody Vest, of which thon
didst formerly give me the argument, ere I left Cyprus ;
thou must be perfect in it by Ibis lime, or, as our yeomna
say, thy bow is broken,"

The anxious eye of the minstrel, however, dwelt oa
Edith, and it was not till he observed her returning colcnt
that he obeyed the repeated commands of the King.
Then, accompanying his voice with the harp, so a;
grace, but yet not drown, the sense of what he sung
chanted in a sort of recitative, one of those ancient ad-
ventures of love and knighthood, which were wont of ,

THE TALISMAN. 117

yore lo win the public attention. So soon as he began
to prelude, tlie insignificanee of his personal appearance
Beenied to disappear, and his countenance glowed with
energy and inspirntion. His full, manly, mellow voice,
so absolutely under command of the purest taste, thrilled
on every ear, and to every heart. Richard, rejoiced aa
afler victory, called out the appropriate summons for
eilencc,

Listen, lords, la botver and hall \

while with the zeal of a patron at once and a pupi], he
arranged the circle around, and hushed them into silence ;
and he himself sat down with an air of expectation and
interest, not altogether uumijted wiih llie gravity of the
professed critic The courtiers turned their eyes on Ihe
King, that they might be ready to trace and imitate the
emotions his features should express, and Thomas de
Vaux yawned tremendously, as one who snbmilted un-
willingly to a wearisome penance. The song of Blondel
was of course in the Norman language ; but the versea
which follow, express its meaning anfl

Ctl« XIdoDii VtBt.

'Twos near the fair city of Benevent,
When the son was setting on boagli and bent.
And knights wars preparing ia bower and tent,
On tlia eve of Ihe Ilaptist's toarnament ;
When In Lincoln green a stripling gent,
WbH seeniing a page by e. princesB sent,
Wander'd the camp, and, still u he weot^
Enqnired for the Engliahmnn Thomas a Kent

Far hath be ftred, and farther must (lire,

Till be finds hia pavitlon nor stately nor ran, —

Little savo iron and steel waa there;

And, as lacking Cha coin to pay nrmoroF'B cars,

L

119 WAVEBLBT NOrELS. ■

With his sinewy anna to the Blinnldera bare,
The gcx>d linight with hummer and file did repair
The IDOQ that to-morrow innal see him wear,
For the honour of Saint John and Lis lady fair.

" Thaa speaks my Isdy," the page said he,
And the knight bent lowly both head aad knaa,
" She is Benorent's Princesa bo high in degrae,
And thoo art as lowly aa knight may well be —
He that woald climb 5o lofty ft tree,
Or spring inch a galfas divides her fVom thee.
Must dare some high deed, by which all men may see
His ambition is back'd by hia hie chivalrie.

" Thereftira thus speaks my lady," the fair page he said.
And the knight lowly louted with haad and with bead,
"Fliog aside (he good armour in which then art clad,
And don thou this weed of her night-gear instead,
For a hanbork of steel, a kirtle of thread :
And charge, thns attired, in the touruament dread,
Aiid Qght as thy wont is where most blood is shed.
And bring hononr away, or remain with the dead."

Untroubled in his iook, and untroubled in Ms breast,

The knight the weed hath taken, and rororantly hath klss'd:—

"Now blessed be the moment, tlio messenger be blest!

Much honour'd do I bold me in my lady's high behoslj

And aay unto my lady, in this dear night^wead dress'd.

To the best armed champion I will not veil my creat;

But if I live and bear mo well 'tis her tarn to take the teat."

Bere, gentles, ends the (bremost tytte of the Lay of the Bloody Vest.

"Thou haat changed the meitsure upon as unawares in
that last couplet, my Blondel? " said the King.

" Most true, my lord," said Blondel. " I rendered the
yersee from the Italian of an old harper, whom I met in
Cyprus, and not having had time either to translate it
accurately, or commit it to memory, I am fain to supply
gap9 in the music and the verse ai I can upon the spur
of the moment, as you see boors mend a quickset fence
nith a faggot."

L

3

THE TALISMAN.

my faith," said the King, " I lite these rat-

)e thinks they c
C thun that briefer a
is well known to jour Grace,"

tling roiling Alexandiinc
twangingly off to the mu

" Both Jive licensed, a
answered Blondel.

"They are so, Bloodel," said lUchardi "yet metbitika
the scene, where there ia like to be fighting, will go best
on in these same thundering Alexandrines, which sound
hke the charge of cavalry ; while the other measure is
but like the sidelong arable of a lady's palfrey."

" It shall be aa your Grace pleases," replied Blondel,
and began again to prelude.

" Nay, first cherish thy fancy with a cup of fiery Chios
wine," said the King ; " and hark ihee, I would have thee
fling away that new-fangled restriction of thine, of termi-
nating in accurate and similar rhymes They are a con-
straint on thy flow of fancy, and make thee resemble a
man dancing in fetters."

" The fetters are easily flung off, at least," said Blondel,
again sweeping his fingers over the strings, as one who
would rather have played than listened to criticiam.

" But why put them on, man ? " continued the King —
" Wherefore thrust thy genius into iron bracelets ? I
marvel how you got forward at all — I am sure I should
not have been able to compose a stanza i:

Blondel looked down and busied him
strings of his harp, \o hi
crept over bis features ;
observation.

" By my faith thou laugh'st at me, Blondel," he said ;
" and, in good truth, every man deserves it, who presumes
to play the master when he should be the pupil ; but we

a yonder ham-

with the

in involuntary smile which
. it escaped not Richard's

120 WATEELET

kings get liud habits of Belf-opinion. — Come, oq with thy '
lay, dearest Blondel — on after thine own fashion, better '
than aught that we can suggest, though we muflt needs be
talking."

Blondel resumed the lay; but, aa extemporaneous com-
position was familiar to him, he failed not to comply with
the King's hints, and was perhaps not displeased to show
with how much ease he could new-model a poem, even
while in the act of r

Ctic aUaJis Vest.

The Bapliat's fair morrow behold gaUant feata—
Tliera was wmning of honour, and luaing of seats—
Thflro was hewing with falohionB, nnd Bplintering of
Tlie yiGtore won glory, tiie vaoqniab'ci won gniveB,
Oil, many a kniglit tlioro fought bravely and weli,
Yet one WM accounted his peers to excel.
And 'twas he whose sole arnioar on body and breast
Seem'd ttie weed of a damsel when bonne for her Tei

they:

r

'Twera nnfcnighlly to slay him aohieying his

Tben the Prince, for bis sake, bnd<

He Song down his warder, the tmmpets song peace;

And the judges declare, and competitQi's yield.

That the Knigbt of the Night-gear niw first In the Seld.

Tbe fbast It was nigh, and the mass it wiui nigher,
When before tbe fair Princess low lonted a squire,
And deliver' d a garment oneeemly to view,
With sword-cut and spear-thmsl, all haok'd ajid pieroBd Ul
All rent and all tatter'd, all clotted with blood.
With foam of the horEes, with dust, and with mud,
Not the point of that lady's small finger, I ween,
Conld have rested on spot was onsullied and clean.

" Tliis token my moEter, Sir ThomRS k Kent,
Restorea to the Prlnoeea of fnir BeneTeot;
He that olimtia the taJl tree baa woo right to the frnit,
He that leaps the nlde golf shoald prevail in his mit;
Throng life's atmoat peril the prize 1 have van.
And DOW mnat the faith of my miatreaa ha shown:
For ehe who prompts knights dd each danger to run,
Uoat avouch hia true aervico in front of the sun.

"I restore," siys my m

^dl
For

le PrincBi

" the garment I've w

B Btwua and its routs eho stould prize it tlie more,
Since by shamo "tia nnanlliad, though orimson'd with gore."
Thon deep blnsli'd the Princeaa— yet kisB'd she and presa'd
The blood-apotted robea to her lipa and iior breaat-
" Gu tell my true kuiglit, church and chamher shall show
If I yaluB tho blood on thia garment or no."

And when it was time for the noblea to pass,
In solemn procession to minster and maas,
The firat wolli'd Hie Priucosa in purple and poll,
But the blood-besmear' d night-robe she worn over allj
And eke, in the hall, where Ihay all aat at dhie,
When she knelt to hor father and proffor'd tho wins.
Over nil hor rich roboa and state jewels, she wore
That wimple unseemly bedabbled with gore.

Then lords whliper'd ladles, us ■well jou may think.
And ladiea replied, with nod, titter, and wink;
And the Prince, who in anger and ahame liad look'd down,
Tum'd at length to his daughter, and spoke with a Crown:
" Sow since thon hast pnblish'd thy folly and guilt,
E'en ntoUB with thy hand for the blood thon hnat spiltj
Yet aore for your lioldnBSB yon both will repent.
When you wander as esilos from fair BenevBUl."

Then out spoke stout Thomas, in hall where he stood,
Eahaiisl«d and feeble, but dauntless of mood;
" The blood that 1 lost for this daughter of thine,
IpDar'd forth as freely as flask gives ita wine^
And if for my sake she brooks penance and blame.
Do not doubt I will aare her from snffering and shame;
And light will she reck of thy princedom and rent.
When I hall her, in England, the Conntess of Kent."

122 WATERIET SOVBLa.

of npplause ran tlirough the Bssembly, fol-
lowing tlie example of Richard himself, wlio loaded w
praises his favourite minstrel, and ended by presenting
him with a ring of considerable value. The Queen
hastened to distinguish the favourite by a rich bmcelef,
and many of the nobles who were present followed the i
royal example.

"Is our cousin Edith," said the ^mg, "become insen-
sible to the sound of the harp she once loved ? "

" She thanks Blondel for his lay," replied Edith, " but
doubly the kindness of the kinsman who suggested it,"

"Thou art angry, cousin," said tlie King; "angry
because Ihou hast heard of a woman more wayward than
thyaeU, But you escape mo not — I will walk a space
homeward with you towards the Queen's pavilion — we
must have conference together ere the night has waocd
info morning."

The Queen and her attendants were now o» foot, and
the other guests withdrew from the royal tent. A train
with blazing torches, and an escort of archers, awaited
Berengaria wifhoiit the pavilion, and she was soon on her
way homeward. Kichard, as he had proposed, walked
beside his kinswoman, and compelled her to accept of his
arm as her support, so that ihey could speak lo each other
without being overheard.

" What answer, then, am I to return to the noble
Soldan?" said Richard. "The Kings and Princes are
falling from me. Edith — tliia new quarrel hath alienated
them once more. I would do something for the Holy
Sepulchre by composition, if not by victory ; and the
chance of niy doing this depends, alas ! on the caprice of
a woman. I would lay my single spear in the rest
against ten of the best lances in Christendom, ratlier

TliB TALISMAN. 12iJ

t.han argue with a wilful wencii, wLo ktiow; iitit w'nat is
for her own good.— What answer, coz, am I (o itTjni lo
the Soidan ? It must be decisive."

"Tell him," said Edith, "that the pooitst of the
Planlagenets will rather wed with misery than with mis-

"Sball I say with slavery, Edith?" said die King —
•• Methinks that is nearer thy thoughts."

" There is no room," said Editli, " for the suapiciou you
BO grossly insinuate. Slavery of ihe body might have
been pitted, but that of the soul is oniy to be despisiid.
Shame lo thee. King of merry England. Thoa hast
enthralled both the limbs and the spirit of a knight, onca
scarce less famed than thyself."

" Should I not prevent my kinswoman fiom drinking
poison, by sullying the vessel which contained it, if I saw
no other means of disgusting her with the fatal liquor ? "
replied the King.

" It ia thyself," answered Edith, " that would press
me to drink poison, because it is proffered in a golden
chahce."

"Edith," said Richard, " I cannot force thy resolution ;
but beware you shut not the door which Heaven opens.
The hermit of Engaddi, he whom Popes and- Councils
have regarded as a prophet, hath read in the stars
that thy marriage shall reconcile me with a powerful
enemy, and that thy husband shall be Christian, leaving
thus the fairest ground to hope, that the conversion of the
Soldau, and the bringing in of the sons of Ishraael to the
pale of the church, will be the consequence of thy wed-
ding with Saladin. Come, thou must make some Eocri-
ficc rather than mar such happy prospects."

"Men may sacrillce rams and goats," said Edith, " but

I

■WAVEBtHT ITOTELH.

124

not honour nnd conscience. I have heard that it was the
dishonour of a ChnBlian raniden, which brought Ihe Sar-
acens into Spain — the shame of another is no likely mode
of expelling ihem from Palestine."

"Dost Ihou call it shame to become an Empress?"
Baid Ihe King.

"I call it siiame and diehonour to profane a Christian
facramcnt, by entering inio it with an infidel whom i(
cannot bind ; and I call it foul dishonour, that I, the de-
scendant of a Christian princess, should become of froe
will the head of a harem of heathen concubines."

" Well, kinswoman," said the King, after a pause, " I
must not quarrel wilh thee, though I think thy dependent
condition might hare dictated more compliance."

"My liege," replied Edifh, "your Grace hath worthily
succeeded to all Ihe wealth, dignity, and dominion of the
House of Plantagenet, — do not, therefore, begrudge your
poor kinswoman some small share of Iheir pride."

" By my faith, wench," said the King, " thou hast un
horsed me with that rerj woi-d i ao we will kiss and be
friends. I will presently dispatch thy answer to Saladin.
But after all, coz, were it not better to suspend your an-
swer (ill you have seen him ? Men say he is preemi-
nently handsome."

" There is no chance of our meeting, my lord," said
Edith.

" By Saint Georgej but there is nest to a certainty of
it," said the Kirg ; " for Saladin will doubtless afford na
a free field for the doing of this new battle of the Stan-
dard, and will witness it himself. Berengaria is wild to
behold it also, and I dare be sworn not^a feather of you,
her companions and attendants, will remain bebind-r-leaat
of all thou thyself, fair coz. But come, we have reached

THE TALISMAN. 123

the pavilion, and must part — ^not in unkindness though—
nay, thou must seal it with thy lip as well as thy hand,
sweet Edith — ^it is my right as a sovereign to kiss my
pretty vassals."

He embraced her respectfully and affectionately, and
returned through the moonlight camp, humming to him-
self such snatches of Blondel's lay as he could recollect.

On his arrival he lost no time in making up his dis-
patches for Saladin, and delivered them to the Nubian,
with a charge to set out by peep of day on his return to
the Soldan.

■WAVEHLET HOTELS-

CHAPTER XXTIL

fa glvB tliem victory.

Os the subsequent morning, Richard was invited to i
conrerence by Philip of France, in which the latter, wi
Dianj expressions of high esteem for his brother i
England, communicated to him, in terms extremely coap-
teous, hut loo explicit to be misunderstood, his positive
intention to return to Europe, and to the cares of hia
kingdom, aa entirely despairing of future success in their
undertaking, with their diminished forces and civil dis-
cords, Richard remonstrated, but in vain; and when
the conference ended, he received without surprise s
manifesto from the Duke of Auslria, and several other
princea, announcing a resolution similar to that of Philip,
and in no modified lerras, assigning, for their defectioa I
from the cause of the Cross, the inordinate ambition audi
flrbitrarj domination of Richard of England. All hopesB
of continuing the war with any prospect of ultimate bi
cess, were now abandoned, and Richard, while he shed
bitter tears over his disappointed hopes of glory, was little
consoled by the recollection, that the failure waa in some m
degree to be imputed to the advantages which he bad a
given his enemies by his own hasty and imprudent tflm^j
per.

THB TALISMAN. 127

" They had not dared to hare deserted m^ father thuB,"
he said to De Yaux, id the bitterness of his reseDtment.
— " No slanders Ihcy could have uttered against so wise
a king would have been believed in Chrislendom ; where-
as,— fool that I am ! — I have not only afforded them a
pretest for deserting roe, but even a colour for casting all
the blame of the rupture upon my unhappy foibles,"

These thoughts were BO deeply galling to ihe King,
that De Vaux was rejoiced when the arrival of an ambas-
sador from Saladin turned bis reflections into a different
channel.

This new envoy was an Einir much respected by the
Soldan, whose name was Ahdallah el Hadgi. He de-
rived his descent from the family of the Prophet, and the
race or tribe of Hashem, in witness of which genealogy
he wore a greeo [urban of large dimensions. He had
also three times performed the journey to Mecca, from
which he derived his epithet of El Hadgi, or the Pilgrim,
Notwithstanding these various pretensions to sanctity,
Abdallah was (for an Arab) a boon companion, who en-
joyed a merry tale, and laid aside his gravity bo far as to
quaff a blithe flagon, when secrecy insured him against
scandal. He was likewise a statesman, whose abililiea
had been used by Saladin in various negotiations with the
Chiistian princes, and particularly with Richard, U> whom
El Hadgi was personally known and acceptable. Ani-
mated by the cheerfiil acquiescence with which the envoy
of Saladin afforded a fair field for the combat, a safe con-
duct for all who might choose to witness it, and offered
his own person as a guarantee of his fidelity, Richard
soon forgot his disappointed hopes, and the approaching
dissolution of the Christian league, in the interesting dis-
cussions preceding a combat in the lists.

L

WATBHI-BT NOTBlfl.

The station, called the Diamond of the Deaert, was
unsigned for (he place of conflict, as being nearly at an
equal distance betwixt the Christian and Saracen camps.
It was agreed that Conrade of Montserral, the defendant,
with his godfaihere, tlie Archduke of Austria and the
Grand Muster of the Templars, should appear there on
the day fixed for the combat, with an hundred ai'md fol-
lowers, and no mora ; that Richard of England, and his
brother Salisbury, who supported the accusation, should
attend with the same outnber, to protect his champion ;
and that the Soldan should bring with him a guard of
five hundred chosen followers, a band considered as sot
more than equal to the two hundred Christian lances.
Such pcr»)ns of consideration as either party choae to
invite to witness the contest, were to wcar'no other weap> _
ons than their swords, and to come without defensive I
armour. The Soldan undertook the preparation of the
lists, and to provide accommodations and refi-eahmeota of
every kind for all who were to assist at the solemnity;
and his letters expressed, with much courtesy, the pleas-
ure which he anticipated in the prospect of a pergonal and
peaceful meeting with the Melech Bic, and his anzioua
desire to render his reception as agreeable as possible.

All preliminaries being arranged, and communicated to
the defendant and his godlathers, Abdallah the Hadgi was
admitted to a more private interview, where he heard
with delight the strains of Blondel. Having first c
fully put his green turban out of sight, and assumed a
Greek cap in its stead, he requited the Norman min§trel'a
music with a drinking song from the Persian, and quaffed , ■
a hearty Hagon of Cyprus wine, to show that his practiced
matched his principles. On the next day, g"&'
^ Bober as the 'watei:-drinker Mirglip, he bent his brow (0 1

TIIE TALISMAN.

129

the frroand before Saladin's footstool, and rendered lo the
SolJan an account of his embassy.

On the day before tliat ap|)oiuted for the combat, Con-
rade and his friends set off by daybreak to repair to the
place assigned, and Richard, left the camp at the same
hour, and for the same purpose j but, as liad been agrci'J
upon, he took his journey by a different route, a prr-
caution which had been judged necessary, to pri-v.ent
the possibility of a quarrel hetwiit their ai'med atteud-

The good King himself was in no humour for quarrel-
ling with any one. Nothing could have added to his
pleasurable anticipations of a desperate and bloody com-
bat in the lists, except his being in his own royal person
one of the combatants ; and he was half in charily again
even with Conrade of Montserrat. Lightly armed, richly
dressed, and gay as a bridegroom on the eve of bis nup-
tials, Richard caracoled along by the side of Queen Beren-
garia's litter, pointing out to her the various scenes through
which they passed, and cheering with tale and song the
bosom of the inhospitable wilderness. The former route of
the Queen's pilgrimage to Engaddi had been on tlie other
dide of the chain of mountains, so that the ladies were
strangers to the scenery of the desert ; and though Bercn-
garia knew her husband's disposition loo well not to endeav-
our lo seem interested in what he was pleased either to say
or to sing, she could not help indulging some female fears
when she found herself in the howling wiideniess with so
small an escort, which seemed almost like a moving speck
OD the bosom of the plain, and knew, at the same time,
tbey were not so distant from the camp of Saladin but
what they might be in a moment surprised and swept off
by an overpowering host of his fiery-footed cavalry, should

J3(

■WAVERLET SOVEtS.

the Pagan be failhlesa enougb to embrace an opportunity
thus lempting. But when she hinted these suspicions to
Richard, he repelled them with displeasure and disdain.
" It were worse than ingratitude," he said, " to doubt the
good faith of the generous Soldan."

Tet the same doubts and fears recurred more llian once,
not to the timid mind of the Queen alone, hut to the firmer
Hnd more eandid soul of Edith Flaiitagenet, who had no
Bueh confidence in Ihe faith of the Moslem as to render
her perfectly at eaje when so much in their power ; and
her snrprise had been far less than her terror, if ibe
desert around had suddenly resounded with the shout of
Alia hu ! and a band of Arab cavalry had pounced on
them like vultures on their prey. Nor were these sus-
picions lessened, when, as evening approached, they were
aware of a single Arab horseman, distinguished by his
turban and long lance, hovering on the edge of a small
eminence like a liawk poised in the air, and who instantly,
on the appearance of the royal retinue, darted off with
the speed of the same bird, when it shoots down the wind
and disappears from the horizon.

" We must be near the station," said King Richard ;
" and yonder cavalier is one of Saladin's outposta — me-
tliinks I hear the noise of the Moorish boms and cymbals.
Get you into order, ray hearts, and form yourselves around
tlie ladies soldierlike and firmly,"

As he spoke, each knigbl, squire, and archer, hastily
closed in upon his appointed ground, and Ihey proceeded
m the most compact order, which made their numbers
appear still smaller ; and to say the truth, though there
might be no fear, there was anxiety as well as curiosity
in the attention with which they lisleoed to the wild
bui-sts of Moorish music, which came ever and i

and moBiJ

J

131

more dislinclly from Ihe quarter in which tlie Arab
horseinaa bad been seen to disappear.

De Vans spoke in a whiapei- to the King — "Were il
not well, my liege, to send a page to the top of ihat sand-
bunk ? Or would it Btand with your pleasure that I prick
forward ? MethinLs, by all yonder clash and clang, if
there be do more than five hundred men beyood the Band-
hills, half of the Soldan'a retinue must be drummers and
cymbal-Iossers. — Shall I spur on ?"

The Baron had checked his horse with the bit, and was
just about to strike him with the spurs, when the King
exclaimed — " Not for the world. Such a caution would
express suspicion, and (!Ould do httle to prevent surprise,
which, however, I apprehend not."

They advanced accordingly in close and firm order till
they surmounted the line of low sand-hilk, and came in
sight of the appointed station, when a splendid, but at the
same time a startling spectacle, awaited them.

The Diamond of the Desert, so lately a solitary foun-
tain, distinguished only amid the waste by solitary groups
of palm-trees, was now the centre of an encampment, the
embroidered flags and gilded ornaments of which glittered
far and wide, and reflected a thousand rich tints against
the setting sun. The coverings of the large pavilions
were of the gayest colours, scarlet, bright yellow pale
blue, and other gaudy and gleaming hues, and thi, tops
of their pillars, or tent-poles, were decorated with golden
pomegranates, and small silken flags. But, besides these
distinguished pavilions, there were, what Thomas de Vaux
considered as a portentous number of the ordinary black
tents of the Arabs, being sufficient, as he conceived, to ac-
commodate, according to the Eastern fa.<hion, a host of five
thousand men, A number of Arabs and Curds, fully cor-

132

WATERLSr NOTBLS.

responding to the estent of tlie encampment, were haa^
assembling, each lending his horse in hia hand, and their
mnater was accompanied by an astonishing clamour oC
their noisy instruments of martial music, by which, in all
ages, the warfare of the Arabs has beea animated.

They soon formed a deep and confused mass of dis-
mounted cavalry in front of their encampment, when, at
the signal of a shrill cry, which arose high over the clang-
our of the music, each cavalier sprang to his saddle. A
cloud of duat arising at the moment of (hia manoeuvre, hid
from Richard and his attendants the camp, the palm-trees,
and the distant ridge of mountains, as well as the troops
whose sudden movement had nused the cloud, and ascend-
ing high over their heads, formed itself into the fanlastic
forms of writhed pillars, domes, and minarets. Another
shrill yelt was heard from the bosom of this cloudy taber-
nacle. It was the signal for the cavalry to ad\'auce,
which they did at full gallop, disposing themaelTCs as
they came forward, so as to come in at once on the front,
flanks, and rear, of Richard's little body-guard, who were
thus surrounded and almost choked by the dense clouds
of dust enveloping them on each side, through which
were seen alternately, and lost, the grim forms and wild
faces of the Saracens, brandishing and tossing their lances
in every possible direction, with (he wildest cries and Lal-
looa, and frequently only reining up their horses when
within a spear's length of the Christians, while those in
the rear discharged over the heads of both parties thick
volleys of arrows. One of these struck the litter in which
the Queen was sealed, who loudly screamed, and the red
spot was on Richard's brow in an instant.

" Ha ! Saint George," he exclaimed, " we must take

Bome order with this infidel s<

n!"

THE talisiia:^.

But Ediih, whose litter v

; thrust h

7 head o

and with her hand holding one of the ehafls, exelairoed,
" Royal Rii^hard, beware what you do ! see, these arrows
are beedleas !"

" Noble, seuaible wench 1 " exclaimed Richard ; " by
Heaven, thou shainest us all by thy readiness of ttiought
and eye.— .-Be not moved, my English hearlB," he ex-
claimed to his followers — " their arrows have no heads —
and their spears, too, lack the steel points. It is but a
wild welcome, after their savage fashion, though doubt-
less they would rejoice to see ua daunted or disturbed.
Move onward, slow and steady."

The little phalanx moved forward accordingly, accom-
panied on all sides by the Arabs, with the shrillest and
most pierciiig cries, the bowmen, meanwhile, displaying
their agility by shooting as near the creata of the Chria-
tians as was possible, wilhoat actually hitting them, while
the lancers charged each other with such rude blows of
their blunt weapons, that more than one of them lost his
saddle, and well-nigb his life, in this rough- sport. Alt
this, though designed to express welcome, had rather a
doubtful appearance in the eyes of the Europeans.

As they had advanced nearly halfway towards the
camp, King Richard and his suite forming, as it were,
the nucleus round which this tumultary body of horse-
men howled, whooped, skirmished, and galloped, creating
a scene of indescribable confusion, anotlier shrill cry was
heard, on which all these irregulars, who were on the
front and upon the flanks of the little body of Europeans,
wheeled off, and forming themselves into a long and deep
column, followed with comparative order and silence in
the rear of Richard's troop. The dust began now to dis-
sipate in their front, when there advanced to meet them,

134

WATEaml KOTBLS,

llirough ihat clomly veil, a boJy of cavalry of a diflerenl
(ind more regular description, complelely armed witii
ofienaive and defensive weapons, and who might well
have served as a body-guard to the proudest of li^asl^m
inonarchs. Tiiia splendid troop consisted of five hundred
men, and each horse which it contained was worth an
carl's ransom. The riders were Georgian and Circa^^siaD
slaves in the very prime of life ; their helmeta and hau-
herks were formed of steel rings, so bright that they
shone like silver i their vestures were of the gayest col-
ours, and BOnie of cloth of gold or silver; the sashes
were Iwisfed with silk and gold, their rich turbans were
plumed and jewelled, and their sabres and poniards, of
Damascene steel, were adoiiied with gold and gems on
hilt and scabbard.

This splendid array advanced to the sound of military
music, and when they met the Christian body, they opened
their files to the right and left, and let them enter between
their ranks. Richard now assumed the foremost place
in his troop, aware that Saladin himself was approaching.
Nor was it long when, in the centre of his body-gi
surrounded by his domestic officers, and those hit
negroes who gnard the Eastern harem, and whoss
shapcn forma wei'e rendered yet more frightful hy the
richness of their attire, came the Soldan, with the look
and manners of one on whose hruw Nature had written.
This is a King ! In his snow-whit« turban, vest, and wide
Eastern trousers, wearing a sash of scarlet silk, without
any other ornament, Saladin might have seemed the
plainest dressed man in his own guard. But closer
spection discerned in his turhan that inestimable
which was called by the poets, the Sea of Light;
diamond on which his signet was engraved, and which

le gem,

;hl.; tlie J

■hichlw^^J

r

THE TALI3MA?r. 135

wore in a ring, was probably worth al! the jewels of tlia
English crown, and a sapphire, wLkb (enninnted ibe hill
of his CBJijiar, wa^ of not much inferior TaJue. It should
be added, that to protect him from the da^t, which, in the
vicinity of the Dead Sea, resembles the finest ashes, or,
perhaps, out of Oriental pride, the Soldan wore a sort of
veil attached to his turban, which partly obscured the
view of his noble features. He rode a milk-white Ara-
bian, which bore him as if coDSCious and proud of hia
noble burden.

There was no need of farther introduction. The two
heroic monarchs, for such they both were, thi'Cw them-
twelves at once from horseback, and the troops halting and
the music suddenly ceasing, they advanced to meet each
other in profound silence, and, after a courteous inclina-
tion on either side, they embraced as brethren and equals.
The pomp and display upon both sides attracted no
farther notice — -no one saw aught save Richard and Sala-
diu, and they too beheld nothing but each other. The
looks with which Richard surveyed Saladin, were, how-
ever, more intently curious than those which the Soldan
fixed upon him ; and the Soldan also was the first to
break silence.

" The Melech Ric is welcome to Saladin as water to
this desert I trust he hath no distrust of this numerous
array. Excepting the armed slaves of my household,
those who surround you with eyes of wondei' and of wel-
come, are, even the humblest of them, the privileged
nobles of my thousand tribes ; for who that could ulaim
a title fo be present, would remain at home when such a
Prince was to be seen as Richai'd, with the terrors of
whose name, eren on the sands of Yemen, the nurse stilla
her child, and the free Arab subdues his restive steed!"

13C

TTATERLET MOVEtS.

"And llipse are all nobles of Araby?" said Ricbai-d,
looking nround on wild forma witb their persons covered
wilh haielis, their coontenance swart with the sunbeams,
their teeth aa white as ivory, their black eyea glancing
with fierce and preternatural lustre from under the shade
of their turbans, and their dress being in genei-al Bimplc,
even to meanness,

" They claim such rank," said Saladin ; " but though
numerous, (hey are within ihe conditions of ihe treaty,
and bear no arms but the aabre — even the iron of their
Jances is left behind."

" I fear," raullered De Vaux in English, " they have
left them where (hey can he soon found.— A most flour-
ishing House of Peel's, I confess, and would iind West-
minslcr-Hall aomething too narrow for them."

"Hush, De Vaui," said Bicbard, " I command thee. —
. Noble Saladin," he said, "suspicion and thou cannot exist
on the same ground. — Sfee'st thou," pointing to the liEtera
— " I too have brought some champions with me, though
armed, perhaps, in breach of agreement, for bright eyes and
fair features are weapons which cannot be left behind."

The Soldan, turning to the litters, made an obeisance
as lowly OS if looking towards Mecca, and kissed the
sand ia token of respect.

" Nay," said Richard, — " they will not fear a closer
encounter, brother ; wilt thou not ride towards their lit-
ters, and the curtains will be presently withdrawn?"

"That may Allah prohibit!" said Saladin, "since not
an Arab looks on who would not think it shame to the
noble ladies to be seen with their faces uncovered."

" Thou shall see them, then, in private, brother,"
s we red Richard.

"To what purpose?" answered Saladin, raoumfuB^i

I L

THE TAtlSMAlT. 137

"Thy lilt letfer wae, lo the hopes wliioh I Lad enter-
liLiiid, ]]ke witer to fire; and wherefore should I again
light a flame which may indeed consume, but cannot
cheer me "^ — But will not my hrother pass to the tent
which hi3 servant hath prepared for him ? My principal
hlaek slave hath takea order for the reception of the
Princesaes — the officers of my Louaehold will attend your
followers, and ouraelf wiE be the chamberlain of the i-oyal
Richard."

He led the way accordingly to n splendid pavilion,
where was every thing that royal laxury could devise.
De Vaux, who was in attendance, then removed the
chappe, (capa,) or long riding-cloak which Richard wore,
and he stood before Salailin in the close drcfs which
showed lo advantage the strength and symmetry of his
person, while it bore a strong contrast to the flowing robes
-which disguised the thin frame of the Eastern monarch.
It was Richard's two-handed sword that chiefly attracted
the attention of the Saracen, a broad straigiit blade, tlie
seemingly unwieldy length of which extended well-nigh
from the shoulder lo the heel of the wearer.

" Had I not," said Salad in, "seen this bi-and flaming
in the front of battle, like that of Azrael, I liad scarce
believed that human arm CQuld wield it. Might I re-
quest to see the Melech Ric strike one bbw with it in
peace, and in pure trial of strength?"

" Willingly, noble Saladin," answered Richard ; and
looking around for something whereon to exercise hia
strength, he ^aw a steel mace, held by one of the attend-
ants, ihe handle being of the same metal, and about an
inch and a half in diameter — this he placed on a block
of wood.

The anrieiy of De Vaux for his master's honour led him

ISi

WAVBKLKT KOTELB.

to Wilis per in English — "For the hleaaod Vu'giu's aalto ■
beware what you altenipt, my liege I Your fuil atrengtk (J
is not Hs yet returned — give no triumph to (lie iofidel."

" Peace, fool ! " said Richard, standing firm on 1
ground, and casling a fierce glance aronnd — "thinkeat-]
thou that I can fail in hi* presence?*'

The glittering broadsword, wielded by both his hands,
rose aloft to the King's left shoulder, circled round his'
head, descended witb the sway of some terrific engine ^
and Ute bar of ii-on rolled on the ground in two pieces,
aa a woodsman would sever a sapling with a hedging.. j
hill.

"By the head of the Prophet, a moat wonderful blow I"
Baid Ibe Soldan, critically and accurately examining the 1
iron bar which had been cut asunder ; and the blade of J
the sword was so well tempered as to exhibit not
least token of having suffered by the feat it had per~d
formed. He then took the King's hand, and looking od.J
the size and muscular strength which it exhibited, laughed 4
as he placed it besiile his own, so lank and thin, sc
ferior in brawn and sinew.

"Ay, look well," said De Vans, in English, "it wiC bo 1
long ere your long jackanape's fingers do such a feat w
your fine gilded reaping-liook there."

"Silence, De Vaux," said Richard ; "by Our Lad j^ '
he understands or guesses thy meaning, — be not so bijHidf I
I pray thee."

The Soldan, indeed, presently said — " Something I
would fain attempt — though, wherefore should the weak |
show their inferiority in presence of the strong? Tet,. .
each land hath its own exercises, and this may be new to I
the Melech Ric." — So saying, he took from ibe floor a \
cushion oi silk and down, and placed it upright on ono J

THE TALISMAN. 1S9

end. — " Can thj weapon, my brother, sever that cushion ? ""
he siiid to King Richard.

"No, Burelj," replied the Eingi "no Bword on earth,
were it the Excalibar of King Arthur, can cut that which
apposes no steady resblance to the blow."

" Mark, then," said Saladio j and tucking up the sleeve
of his gown, showed his arm, thin indeed and spare, but
which constant exercise had hardened into a mass con-
sisting of noaghc but bone, brawn, and sinew. He ua-
sheaCbed his scimitar, a curved and narrow blade, which
glittered not like the swords of the Franks, hut was, on
the contrary, of a dull blue colour, mai'kcd with ten
millions of meandering lines, which showed how anxiously
the metal had been welded by the armourer. "Wielding
this weapon, apparently so inefficient when compared to
that of Eichard, the Soldan stood resting his weight upon
hia left fool, which was slightly advanced ; lie balanced
himself a httle as if to steady bis aim, then stepping at
once forward, drew the scimitar ucrorS the cushion, ap-
plying the edge so dexterously, and with so little apparent
efibrt, that the custiion seemed rather to fall asunder than
to be divided by violence.

"It ia a juggler's trick," said De Yaux, darting fo^-
ward find snatching up the portion of the cushion which
had been cut off, as if lo assure himself of the reality of
the feat, — " there ia gramarye in this."

The Soldan seemed to comprehend him, for he undid
the sort of veil which he had hitherto worn, laid it double
along the edge of hia sabre, eilended the weapon edge-
ways in the air, and drawing it suddenly through the veil,
although it hung on the blade entirely loose, severed that
bIso into two parts, which floated to different sides of the
tent, equally displaying the extreme temper and sharp-

1 4a

WAVERLHT NOVELS.

Desa of liie weapon, and the exquisite desterity of Lira
who used il.

"Now, in good faith, my brother," said Richard, "thoo
art even matchless at the trick of (he sword, and Hght
perilous wero it lo meet thee ! Still, however, I put
some faith in a downright Eugliab hlow, and what we
cannot do by sleight, we eke out by strength. Neverthe-
less, in truth thou art es expert in inflicting wounda, as
my sage Hakim in curing them. I trust I shall see, the
learned leech — I have much lo thank him for, and had
braught some small present,"

As he spoke, Saladin esehanged his turban for a Tar-
tar cap. He had no sooner done so, than De Vaux
opened at once his extended mouth and his large round
eyes, and Kichard gazed with scarce less astonishment,
while the Soldan spoke in a grave and altered voice ; —
"The sick man, sayelh the poet, while he is yet infirm,
knoweth the physician by hia step ; but when he is re-
covered, he knoweth not even his face when he looks
upon him."

" A miracle I — a mii'acle ! " exclaimed Richard.

'• Of Mahound's working, doubtless," said Thomas de'
Vaux.

" That I shonld lose my learned Hakim," said Richard,
" merely by absence of his cap and robe, and that I
should find him again in my royal brother Saladin 1 "

" Such is oil the fashion of the world," . answered
the Soldan ; " the tattered robe makes not always the

" And it was through thy intercession," said Richard,
"that yonder Knight of the Leopard was saved from
death — and by Ihy artifice that he revisited my camp in
disguise ?"

A

TUE TALISHAK. 141

" Even 90," replied Saladin ; " I was physician enough
lo know, that unless the wounds of his bleeding honour
were stanched, the daya of his life must be few. Hia
disguise was more easily penetrated than I had expected
from the 8u«;esa of my own,"

"An accident," said King Richard, (probably allnding
to the cireumatauce of his applying his lips to the wound
jf the supposed Nubian,) "let me first know that his skin
waa artificially discoloured ; and that hint once taken,
detection became easy, for his form and person are not fo
be forgotten. I confidently expect that he will do battle

" He is full in preparation, and high iii hope," said the
Soldan. "I have turnishcd him with weapons and horse,
thinking nobly of him from what I have seen under
various disguises."

" Knows he now," said Richard, " to whom ho lies
under obhgalion?"

"He doth," replied the Saracen — "I was obliged to
confess my person when I unfolded my purpose."

"And confessed he aught to you?" said the King of
England.

"Nothing exphcit," replied the Soldan; "but from
much that passed between us, I conceive his love is too
highly placed to be happy in its issue."

" And thou knowest, that his daring and insolent paa-
sion crossed thine own wishes ? " said Richard.

" I might guess so much," said Saladia ; " hut his pas-
sion had existed ere my wishes had been fonned — and, I
must now add, is likely to survive them. I cannot, in
honour, revenge me for ray disappointment on him who
had no hand in it. Or, if this high-bom dame loved him
better than myself, who can ?ay that she did n<it justice

142 WATKBl.Kr HorELa.

to a knight of her own religion, who is full of noble- \

"Yet of too meau lineage to mis wilh the blood of
PlaDtageaet," said Bichard, haughtily.

" Such miiy be your maiima in Frangistan," replied
the Soldan. " Our poets of the Eaatern counlriee say,
that a valiant camel-driver is worthy to kiss the lip of
B fair Queen, when a cowardly prince is not wortliy to
salute the hem of lier garment. — But with your permia- J
eion, noble brother, I must take leave of thee for the -l
present, to receive the Duke of Austria and yonder
Nazarene knight, much less worthy of hospitality, but
who must yet be suitably entreated, not for their aakes,
but foi' mine own honour — for what Raitli the sage Lok-
mail? ' Say not that the food is lost unto ihce which U
given to the stranger — for if his body be strengthened
and fattened therewithal, not less is thine own worship,
and good name cherished and augmented.' "

The Saracen Monarch departed from King Kichard's
tent, and having indicated to him, rather with signa than
with speech, where the pavilion of the Queen and her
attendants was pitched, he went lo receive the Marquis
of Montserrat and his attendanta, for whom, with less
good-wiil, but with equal splendour, the magnificent
Soldan had provided accommodations. The roost ample
refreshments, both in the Oi'ieiital, and afler the European
fashion, were spread before the royal and princely guesta
of Saladin, each in their own separate pavilion; and so
attentive was the Soldan to the habits and taste of his
visitors, that Grecian slaves were stationed to present
them with the goblet, which is the abomination of the sect
of Mohammed. Ere Bichard bad finished Ida meal, the
xncient OraraL, who hud brought the Seldan's letter to

THE TALISMAN-. 143

the Cbristian camp, entered with a plan of the ceremonial
lo be observed on the succeeding day of combat. Richard,
who knew the taste of his oM acquainlance, invited him
to pledge bim in a flagon of wine of Schiraz ; but Ab-
dallah gave him lo understand, with a rueful aspect, that
sell'-deniat, in the present circumstances, was a matter iu
which his life was concerned ; for that Saladin, tolerant
in many respects, both observed, and enforced by high
penalliea, the laws of the Prophet.

"Nay, then," said Richard, "if he loves not wine, that
lightener of the human . heart, his conversion is not to
be hoped for, and the prediction of the mad prieat of
Engaddi goes like chaff down the wind."

The King then addressed himself lo settle the articlea
of combat, which cost a considerable time, as it was neces-
sary on some points to consult with the opposite purties,
as well aa with the Soldan.

They were at length finally agreed upon, and adjusted
by a protocol in French and in Arabian, which was sub-
scribed by Saladin, aa umpire of the field, and by Richard
and Leopold aa guarantees for the two combatants. Ab
the Omrah took his final leave of ^ng Richard for the
evening, De Vaus entered.

"The good knight," he aaid, "who is to do battle
to-mori'ow, requests to know, whether he may not to-night
pay duty to his royal godfather?"

"Ha3t thou seen him, De Vaux?" smd tlie King,
Bmiling ; "and didst tfaon know an ancient acquain-
lance?"

"By our Lady of Lanercost," answered De Vaux, ■
" there are so many surprises and changes in this land.
that my poor brain turns. I scarce knew Sir Kenneth
of Scotland, till hia good hound, that had been for a short

L

lU

TTATEW-ET MOTELH,

while under my care, came and fawned on me ; and e
then I only knew the tyko by the depth of his chest,
the roundness of his foot, and his manner of baying ; for
Ibe poor gaze-hound was painted like any Venetian
courtezan."

" Thou art better skilled in brufes than men, De Vanx,"
said the Sing.

" I will not deny," said De Vans, " I have found them ,
ofltimes the honester animals. Also, your Grace is
pleased to term me Bometimea a bniie myself; besides
that I serve the Lion, whom all men acknowleiJge the
ting of brutes."

" By Saint George, there thou brokeat thy lance fairly I
on my brow," Raid the King. " I have ever said thou I
Last a sort of wit, De Vaux — marry, one must strike tbee
■with a sledge-hammer ere it can be made to sparkle. ^
But lo the present gear — ia the good knight well armed
and equipped ? "

"Fully, my liege, and nobly," answered De Vanx; "•!
know the armour well — it ia that which the Venetiao
commissary offered your Highneaa, jaat ere you became 1
ill, for five hundred bezants."

"And he hath sold it to the infidel Soldan, I maiTfuit i
me, for a few ducats more, and present payment. These
Venetians would sell the sepulchre itself I"

"The armour will never be borne in a nobler cauae,"
Eiud De VauK.

" Thanks to the nobleness of the Saracen," said the ]
King, " not to the avarice of the Venetians."

" I would (o God your Grace would be more cautious,"
said the anxious De Vaux. — " Here are we deserted by
all ourulUea, for points of offence given to one or another!
we cannot hope to prosper upon the land, and we have

THE TALlSMAJf.

145

only to quarrel with the amphibious republic, to lose tho
means of retreat by sea ! "

"I will lake care," said Richard, impatiently, "but
school me, no more. Tell me rather, for it is of iat«rest,
halh the knight a confessor ? "

" He hath," answered De Vaux ; " the hermit of En-
gnddi, who erst did him that office when preparing for
death, attends him on the present occasion ; the fame of
the duel having brought liim hither."

" 'Tia well," said Richard ; " and now for the knight's
request. Say to bim, Richard will receive him when the
discharge of his devoir beside the Diamond of tlie Desert
shall have atoned for his fault beside the Mount of Saint
George ; and as thou passes! through the camp, let the
Queen know 1 will visit her pavilion — and tell Blondel to

De Vaux departed, and in about an hour afterwards,
Richard, wrapping his mantle around him, and taking his
ghittem in his band, walked in the direction of the
Queen's pavilion. Several Arabs passed him, but always
with averted heads, and looks fixed upon the earth, though
he could ob erve that all gazed earnestly after him when
h wa* past. This led him justly to conjecture that his
person was known to them ; but that either the Soldan's
con ma Is o their own Oriental politeness, forbade them
to seem to notice a sovereign who desired to remain in-
cognito.

When the King reached the pavilion of his Queen, he
found it guarded by those unhappy officials whom Eastern
jealousy places around the zenana. Blonde! was walking
before the door, and touched his role from time to ti

: which made the Africans show [heir ivory

146

WAVEKLET HOTELS.

teeth, and bear burden with their strange gestnres and
ehrill unualural voices,

" What art thou after with Ihia herd of black cattle,
Blondel ? " siud the King ; " wherefore goest thou not into
the tenl ? "

" Because my trade cnn neither spare the head nor the
fingers," said Blondel ; " and theae honest blackainoora
threatened to cut me joint from joint if I pressed for-

" Well, enter with me," said the King, " and I will be
thy safeguard."

The blacks accordingly lowered pikes and swords to
King Riehard, and bent their eyes on the ground, as if
unworthy to look npon him. In the interior of the pavil-
ion, ihey found Thomas de Vaus in attendance on the
Queen. While Berengiiria welcomed Blonde], King
Richard spoke for some time secretly and apart with hia
Jair kinswoman.

At length, " Are we still foes, my fair Edith ? " he said, j
in a whisper.

" No, my liege," said Edith, in a voice just so low, as ]
not to interrupt the music — " none can bear enmity agaiost I
King Richard, when he deigns to show himself, as
really is, generous and noble, as well as valiant and b
oui-able."

So saying, she extended her hand to him. The King I
kissed it in token of reconciliation, and then proceeded.

" Ton think, my sweet cousin, that my anger in thig I
matter was feigned ; bat you ai'e deceived. The punisb- j
ment 1 inflicted upon this knight was jnst ; for he 1
betrayed — no matter for how tempting a bribe, fair cousin 1
— ^the trust committed to him. But I rejoice, perchancB i
as much as you, that to-morrow gives him a cliance to '

THS TALISMAN.

H7

Ihe field, and throw hack the stain which for a time cluDg
to him, upon the actual thief and traitor. No I — future
times may blame Richard for impetuous folly ; but they
fahall say, that in rendering judgment, he was just when
he should, and merciful when he could."

" Laud not thyself, cousin King," said Edith. « Thay
may call thy justice cruelty — thy mercy caprice,"

"And do not ihou pride thyself'," said the King, "as if
thy knight, who hath not yet buckled on his armour, were
unbelting it in triumph — Conrade of Montserrat is held a
good lance. What if the Scot should lose the day?"

" It is impossible I " said Edith, firmly — " My own eyes
saw yonder Conrade tremble and change colour, like a
base thief. He is guilly — and the trial by combat ia an
appeal to the justice of God — I myself, in such a cause,
would encounter him without fear."

" By the mass, I think thou wouldst, wench," said the
King, " and heat him to boot ; for there never breathed a
truer Plantagenet than thou."

He paused, and added in a Teiy serious tone, — '' See
that Ihou continue to remember what is due lo thy birth."

" What means that advice, so seriously given at this
moment?" said Edith. "Am I of such light nature as
to forget my name — my condition ? "

" I will speak plainly, Edith," answered the King,
" and as to a friend, — What will this knight he to yon,
should he come off victor from yonder lists ? "

"To me? " said Edith, blushing deep with shame and
displeasure, — " What can he be to me more than an hon-
oured knight, worthy of such grace aa Queen Berengaria
might confer on him, had he selected her for hia lady,
instead of a more unworthy choice ? The meanest knight
may devote himself to the service of an empress, but

L

^s^

148

WATBRLXT HOTELS.

the glory of Lb choice," ehe said prondly, " muat be
reward."

" Tet he hath aerved and Buffered much for you," i
the EjDg.

"I have paid hia services with honour aud applai
and his sufieriags with tears," answered Edith. "Ha^,'
he desired other reward, he would have done wisely
have bestowed his affections within his own degree."

" You would not then wear the bloody night-gear
his sake ? " said King Eichard.

"No more," answered Edith, "than I would have ra*
quired him to expose his life by an action, in which there
was more madness than honour."

" Maidens talk ever thus," said the King ; " but whett
the favoured lover presses his suit, she says,
her stars had decreed otherwise."

" Your Grace has now, for the second time, threatei
me with the influence of my horoscope," Edith replied,
with dignity. " Trust me, my liege, whatever be the
power of the stars, your poor kinswoman will never wed
either infidel, or obscure adventurer. — Permit me, that X
listen to the music of Blondel, for the tone of your royal.
admonitions is scarce so grateful to the ear." ;

The conclusion of the evening offered Dothing wortJqf.,
of notice.

lied, I

TOB TALISMi?r.

CHAPTER XXVni.

It had been agreed, oa account of tlie heat of the
(Oimale, that the judicial combat, which was the cause of
the present assemblage of various nations at the Diamond
of the Desert, should take place at one hour after sun-
rise. The wide lists, which had been constructed under
the inspection of the Knight of the Leopard, enclosed a
space of hai-d sand, which was one hundred and twenty
yards long by forty in width. They extended in length
from north to south, so as lo giye both parlies the equal
advantage of the rising sun. Saladin's royal seat was
erected on the western aide of the enclosure, just in the
centre, where the combatants were expected to meet in
mid encounter. Opposed to this was a gallery with
closed casements, so contrived, that the ladies, for whose
accommodation it was erected, might see the fight without
being themselves enposed to view. At either extremity
of the lists was a barrier, which could he opened or shut
at pleasure. Thrones had been also erected, but the
Archduke, perceiving that his was lower than King
Richard's, refused to occupy it ; and Cceor de Lion, who
would have submitted to much ere any formality should
have interfered with the combat, readily agreed that the

150

■WATI!BI.j;t NOTM-S.

sponsors, as tliey were called, should remain on horsebadk^
during the fight. At one extremity of the lists i
placed the foilowera of Richard, and opposed to them
were those who accompanied the defender, Conrade.
Around the throne destined for the Soldan, were ranged
his splendid Georgian Guarda, and the rest of the en-
cloaiire was occupied by Christian and Mohammedan
spectalors.

Long before daybreak, the lisla were surrounded bjl
even n larger number of Saracens than Richard bad a
on the preceding evening. When the first ray of the
Hun's glorious orb arose above the desei-t, the sonorous
call, "To prayer, lo prayer!" was poured forth by the
Soldan himself, and answered by others, whose rank and
zeal enlitled them to act as muezzins. It was a striking
Bpeciaele to see them all sink to earth, for the purpose <rf
repeating their devotions, with their faces turned to
Mecca. But when they arose from the ground, the sun^
rays, now strengthening fast, seemed to confirm the' I
of Gilsland's conjecture of the night before. They wert
flashed back from many a spear-head, for the pointless
lances of the preceding day were certainly no longer
such. De VauK pointed it out to his master, who an-
swered with impatience, that he had perfect confidence in'
the good faiih of the Soldan ; hut if De Vaux was aJTaid' |
of his bulky body, he might retire.

Soon aflcr this the noise of timbrels was heard, at tbft' I
sound of which the whole Sara«en cavaliers threw them-
selves from their horses, and prostrated themselves as if J
for a second morning prayer. This was to give i
opportunity to the Queen with Edith and her attendants
to pass from the pavilion to the gallery intended for them
Fifty guarda of Saladin's seraglio escorted them, i

151

naked sabrea, whose orders were, lo cut W pieces whom-
-BoRver, were be prince or peasant, should venture to gaza
on the ladies as they passed, or even presume to raise his
head until the cessation of the music should mtike all tana
aware that they were lodged in their gallery, not to be
gazed on hy the curious eye.

This superstitions observance of Oriental reverence lo
the fair aex, called forth from Queen Berengaria some
crilicisma very unfavourable to Saladin and his country.
But their den, as the royal /air colled it, being securely
closed and guarded by their aahle attendants, she was
under the necessity of contenting herself with seeing, and
laying aside for the present the still more exquisite
pleasure of being seen.

Meantime the sponsors of both champions went, as
was their duty, to see that they were duly armed, and
prepared for combat. The Archdake of Austria waa in
no hurry to perform Ihis part of the ceremony, having
had rather an unusually severe debauch upon i
Schiraz the preceding evening. But the Grand Master
of the Temple, more deeply concerned in the event of
the combat, was early before the tent of Conrade of
Montserrat. To his great snrprise, the atlendanla i-efused
him admittance.

" Do you not know me, ye knaves ? " said the Grand
Master, in great anger.

" We do, most valiant and reverend," answered Con-
rade's squire ; " but even you may not at present enter—
the Marquis is about to confess himself."

"Confess himself!" exclaimed the Templar, in a
where alarm mingled with surprise and scorn — "and t
whom, I pray thee ? "

"My master hid me be secret," said the squire; o

152 WAVESI

which the Gruud Master pushed past him, anil entturd
the tent almost by force.

The JIarquis of MontieiTat was kneeling at the feet
of the Heripit' of Engaddi, and in the net of beginning
Iiis confesaioa.

" "WTiat means thia, Marquia ? " said the Grand Master,
"up, for ehame — or, if you must needs confess, am not I
here?"

" I have confessed to you tiw often already," replied
Conrade, with a pale cheek .and a faltering voice. " For
God's sake, Grand Master, begone, and let rne unfold my
conscience to this holy man."

" In what is he holier than I am ? " said the Grand
Master. — " Hermit, prophet, madman — say, if thou darest,
in what thou exceUeat me?"

" Bold and had man," replied the Hermit, "know that
I am like the latticed window, and the divine light passes
through to avail others, though, alas I it helpeth not me.
Thou art hke the iron stanchions, which neither receive
light themselves, nor communicate it to any one."

" Prate not to me, but depart from, this tent," said the
Grand Master; "the Marquia shall not confess this
morning, unless it be to me, for I part not from his

" Is this your pleasure ? " said the Hermit to C
"for think not I will obey (hat proud i
tinue to desire my assistance."

"Alas I" said Conrade, irresolutely, "what would
you have me say ? — Farewell for a while — we will apeak

" Oh, procrastination ! " exclaimed the Hermit, " thou
a Boul-murderer ! — Unhappy man, farewell— not for a
!, but until we shall botli meet-

oniesa mi a

it frtim his I

where/T^^^J

THE TALISMAN. 153

And for thee," be added, turning to the Grand Master,
'' Trkmble I "

" Tremble I " replied the Templar, contemptuously, " I
cannot if I would."

The Hermit heard not his anawer, having left the tent.

*' Come ! to this gear hastily," said the Grand Master,
" since tliou wilt needs go through the foolery. — Hark
thee — I think I know most of thy fraillies by heart, so
we may omit the detail, which may be somewhat a long
one, and begin with the absolution. What signifies
counting the spots of dirt that we are about to wash from
our bands ?"

" Knowing what thou art thyself," said Conrade, " it is
blasphemous to speak of pardoning another."

" That is not according to the canon, Lord Marquis,"
said the Templar,^ — "thou art more scrupulous than
orthodox. The absolution of the wicked priest is as
effectual as if be were himself a saint, — otherwise God
help the poor penitent I What wounded man inquirea
whether the sui^eon that tents his gashes have clean
hands or no ! — Come, shall we to this toy ? "

"No," said Conrade, "I will rather die unconfessed
than mock the sacrament."

" Come, noble Marquis," said the Templar, " rouse up
your courage, and speak not thus. In an hour's time
thou shalt stand victorious in the lists, or confess thee in
tiiy helmet, like a valiant knight."

" Alas, Grand Master ! " answered Conrade, " all
augurs ill for this affair. The strange discovery by the
instinct of a dog — the revival of this Scottish knight,
who comes into the lists like a spectre — all betokens
evil."

" Pshaw ! " said the Templar, " I have seen thee bend

I

thy lance boldly against him in spoit, and with equal
chaiit-e of success — think thou art but in a toumamea^
and who bears him better in the tilt-yard than thou? —
Come, squires and armourers, your master nmst be
accoutred for the field,"

The attendants entered accordingly, and began to arm
the Marqaia.

" What morning is without ? " said Conrade.

" The sun rises dimly," answered a squire,

" Thou seest, Grand Master," said Conrade, " noa^it
smiles on us."

" Thou wilt fight the more coolly, my son," answered
the Templar; "thank Heaven, that hath tempered the
sun of Palestine to suit thine occasion."

Thus jested the Grand Master ; but his jests had lost
their influence on the harassed mind of (he Marqais, and,
notwithstanding his attempts to seem gay, bis gloom cmni-
municated itself to the Templar.

" This craven," he thought, " will lose the day ii
faintness and cowardice of heart, which he calls t
conscience. I, whom visions and auguries shake not—
who am firm in my purpose aa the living rock — I should
have fought the combat myself. — Would to Giod the Scot
may strike him dead on the spot — it were next best to hia {
winning the victory. But come what will, he must have I
no other confessor than myself — our sins are too much in I
common, and he might confess my share with his o

While these thoughts passed through his mind, he c
tinned to assist the Marquis in arming, hut it was
silence.

The hour at length arrived, the trumpets sounded, the 1
knights rode into the lists armed at all points, and I
mounted like men who were to do battle for a kingdom'! J

THE TALISIIAS, 155

lionoiir. They wore their vlzora up, and ridiug around
the lists three times, showed themselres to the upectators.
Both were goodly persons, and botli had noble counte-
nantes. But there was an air of mnniy confidence on
die biTiwof the Scot — a radiancy of hope, which amounted
even to cheerfulness, while, although pride and effort had
recalled much of Uonrade's natural courage, tliere low-
ered still on his hi-ow a cloud of ominous despondence.
Kvcu his steed seemed to tread less lightly and blithely
to the tnimpet-souad than the noble Arab which was be-
sli'ode by Sir Kenneth ; and the spruch-eprecher shook his
head while he observed, that while the challenger rode
around the lists in the course of the sun, that is, from
right to left, the defender made the same circuit widder-
mts, that is, from left to right, which is in most countries
held ominous.

A temporary altar was erected just beneath the gal-
lery occupied by the Queen, and beside it slood the Her-
mit in the dress of his order, as a Carmelite friar. Othei
churchmen were also present. To this altar the chal-
lenger and defender were successively brought forward,
conducted by their respective sponsors, Dismonntinc
before it, each knight avouched the justice of his causo
by a solemn oath on the Evangelists, and prayed that his
success might be according to the truth or falsehood of
what he then swore. They also made oath, that they
came to do battle in knightly guise, and with the nsual
weapons, disclaiming the use of spells, charms, or magical
devices, to incline victory to their side. The challenger
pronounced his vow with a firm and manly voice, and a
bold and cheerful countenance. When the ceremony was
finished, the Scottish Knight looked at the gallery, and
bent his head to the earth, as if in honour of those invis-

15S WATEBLET I

ible beauties whicb were enclosed within ; then, loaded
wiili armour as he was, gprung to the saddle without the
uae of the sUrrup, and made his courser carrj' him in a
succession of caracoles to his station at the eastern ex-
tremity of the lists. Conrade also presented himself be-
fore the altar with boldness enough i but his voice, as he
took the oath, sounded hollow, as if drowned in his helmet.
The lips with which be appealed to Heaven to adjudge
victory to the just quarrel, grew white aa thej^ uttered
the impious mockery. As he turned to remount hia
hoi-se, the Grand Master approached liim closer, as if to
rectify something about the sitting of his gorget, and whis-
pered,— " Coward and fool ! — recall ihy senses, and do mo
this battle bravely, else, by Heaven, shouldst thou escape
him, thou escapest not me I "

The savage tone in which this was whispered, perhaps
completed the confusion of the Marquis's nerves, for be
stumbled as he made to horse ; and though he recovered
his feet, sprung to the saddle with hia usual agility, and
displayed hia address in horsemanship as he assumed liis
position opposite to the challenger's, yet the accident did
not escape those who were on the watch for omens, whid|l
might predict the fate of the day. ^

The priests, al^er a solemn prayer, that God would
show the rightful quarrel, departed from the lists. The
trumpets of the challenger then rung a flourish, and a
berald-at-arms proclaimed at the eastern end of the lists,
— " Here stands a good knight, Sir Kenneth of Scotland,
champion for the royal King Kichard of England, who
accuseth Conrade, Marquis of Montserrat, of foul treason
and dishonour done to the said King."

When the words Kenneth of Scotland announced
e and character of the champion, hitherto scarce gcn>.

]

TUE TAL13MAK, 157

erally known, a loud and cheerful acclaim burst froiu the
followers of King Richard, and hardly, notwithstanding
repeated comroands of silence, suffered the reply of the
defendant to be heard. He, of course, avouched his in-
nocence, and offered his body for bailie. The esquires of
the combatants now approached, and delivered to ea;:h his
ehield aod lance, assisting to hang the former around his
neck, that his two hands might remain free, one for the
management of the bridle, the other to direct the lance.

The shield of the Scot displayed his old bearing, the
leopard, but with the addition of a collar and broken
chain, in allusion to his late captivity. The shield of Ihe
Marquis bore, in reference to his title, a serrated and
rocky mountain. Each shook his lance alod, as if to as-
certain the weight and toughness of the unwieldy weapon,
and then laid it in the rest. The sponsors, heralds, and
squires, now retired to the barriers, and the combatants
sat opposite to each other, face to face, with couched lance
and closed vizor, Ihe human form so completely enclosed,
that they looked more like slatnes of molten iron, than
beings of flesh and blood. The silence of suspense waa
now general — men breathed thicker, and their very soula
seemed sealed in their eyes, while not a sound was to be
heard save the snorting and pawing of the good steeds,
who, sensible of what was about to happen, were impatient
to dash into career. They stood thus for perhaps three
minutes, when, at a signal given by the Soldan, an hun-
dred instruments rent the air with their brazen clamours,
and each champion striking his horse with the spurs, and
slacking the rein, the horses started into fiill gallop, and
the knights met in mid space with a shock like a thuoder-
bolt. The victory was not in doubt — no, not one moment.
Conrade, indeed, showed himself a practised warrior: for

158 TFATERLKY NOTEtS.

he struck liis anlagonist knightly in the midst of Ws
shield, heuring his lance so straight and trae, that it shiv-
ered into splinlera from the steel spear-head up to Ibe
very gauntlet. Tlie horse of Sir Kenneth recoiled two
or three yards and fell on hia haunches, but the rider
easily raised him with hand and rein. But for Cotirade,
there was no recovery. Sir Kenneth's lance bad pierced
tlrough the shield, through a plated corslet of Milan
steel, through a secret, or coat of linked mail, worn be-
neath the corslet, had wounded him deep in the bosom,
and borne him from his saddle, leaving the trunclieon of
tlie lance fixed in his wound. The sponsors, heralds, and
Saladin himself, descending from his throne, crowded
around the wounded man ; while Sir Kenneth, who hM
drawn his sword ere yet he discovered his antagonist was
totally helpless, now commanded him to avow his guilt.
The helmet was hastily unclosed, and the wounded mfui,
gazing wildly on the skies, Feplied, — " What would you
more? — God hath decided justly — I am guilty — but
there are worse traitors in the camp than I. — In pity lo
my soul, let me have a confessor ! "

He revived as he uttered these words,

"The talisman — the powerful remedy, royal brothec/
said King Kichard lo Saladin.

" The traitor," answered the Soldan, " is more fit to
dragged from the lists to the gallows by the heels, than
profit by its virtues : — and some such fate is in his loolt^p'
he added, afVer gazing fixedly tipon the wounded maBj
" for, though his wound may be cured, yet Azrael's seal ii
on the wretch's brow."

" Nevertheless," said Richard, " I pray you do for him
what you may, that he may at least have time for confes-
Bioa — Slay not soul and body ! To him one half honr

1

TBB TALiaHAN. 159

drae may be worth more, by ten thousand fold, than tl e
life of the oldest patriarch."

" My royal brother's wish shall be obeyed," said Sal-
adin. — " Slaves, bear this wounded mau to our tent"

" Do not ao," said the Templar, who had hitherto stood
gloomily looking on in silence. — " The royal Duke of
Austria and myself will not permit this unhappy Chris-
tian Prince to he delivered over to the Saracens, that they
may fry their spells upon him. We are his sponsors, and
demand that he be assigned to our care."

" That is, you refuse the cettain means offered to re-
Gover him ?" said Richard.

" Not BO," said the Grand Master, recollecting himself.
— " If the Soldan useth lawful medicines, he may attend
the patient in my tent."

" Do flo, I pray thee, good brother," said Richard to
Saladin, " though the permission be ungraciously yielded.
— But now to a more glorious work. — Sound, trumpets —
shout England — in honour of England's champion ! "

Drum, clarion, trumpet, and cymbal, rung foriJi at
once, and the deep and regular shout, which for ages has
been the English acclamation, sounded amid.^t the shrill
and irregular yells of tlie Arabs, like the diapason of the
organ amid the howling of a storm. There was silence
at length.

" Brave Knight of the Leopard," resumed Creur de
Lion, " thou hast shown lliat the Ethiopian ma;/ change
his skin and the Leopard his spots, tliough clerks quote
Scripture for the impossibility. Tet I have more to say
to yon when I have conducted you to the presence of the
ladies, the best judges, and beet rewai-ders, of deeds of
thivalry."

The Enight of tihe Leopard bowed assents

IfiO

" And thou, princely Saladin, wilt also attend I
1 promise Ihee our Queen will not think herself w
if Ehe lacks the opportunity to thank her royal host for
her most princely reception."

Saladin bent hia head gracefully, but declined the

" I must attend the wounded man," he said. " The
leech leaves not his patient more than the champion the
lists, even if he be summoned to a bower like those of
Paradise. And farther, royal Bichard, know that the
blood of the East flows not so temperately in the pres-
ence of beauty, aa that of your land. What saith the
Book itself ?— Her eye is as the edge of the sword of the
Prophet, who shall look upon it ? He that would not
be burnt avoidclh to tread on hot embers — wise men
spread not the flax before a bickering torch — He, saith
the sage, who hath forfeited a treasure, doth not wisely to
turn back his head to gaze at iL"

Richard, it may be believed, respected the motives of
delicacy which flowed from manners so different from his
own, and urged his request no farther.

" At noon," said the Soldan, as he departed, " I trust
ye will all accept a collation under the black camel-skin
tent of a chief of Curdistan."

The same invitation was circulated among the Chrla-
tinn^, comprehending all those of sufficient importance to
be admitted 1o sit at a feast made for princes.

" Hark ! " said Richard, " the timbrels announce that
our Queen and her attendants are leaving their gallery —
and see, the turbans sink on tlie ground, as if struck down
by a destroying angel. All lie prostratf, as if the glance
of an Arab's eye could sully the lustre of a lady's eheelc J
CJome, W8 will to the pavilion, and lead our conqniw^r

THB T.VLISMAN. ] CI

tiiilliar in triumph. — How I pity that noble Solda.n, who
knows but of love as it is known to those of inferior
nature !"

Bloudel tuned his harp to its boldest measure, to wel-
come the introduction of the victor into the pavilion of
Queen Berengaria. He entered, supported on either
side by his sponsors, Richard and William Longsword,
and knelt gracefuliy down before the Queen, though more
titan half the homage was silently rendered to Edith, who
eat on her right hand.

" Unarm him, my mistresses," said the King, whose
delight waa in the execution of such chivalrous usages —
" Let Beauty honour Chivalry ! Undo bis spurs, Beren-
garia ; Queen though thou be, thou owest him what
marks of favour thou canst give. — Unlace his helmet,
Edith — by this hand, thou shalt, wert thou the proud-
est Planti^enet of the line, and he the poorest knight on
earlh!"

Both ladies obeyed the royal commaods, — Berengaria
with bustling assiduity, as anxious to gratify her hus-
band's humour, and Edith blushing and growing pale
alternately, as slowly and awkwardly she undid, with
Longsword'a assistance, the fastenings, which secured the
helmet to the gorget.

"And what exjiect you from beneath this iron shell?"
said Richard, as the removal of the casque gave to v
lie noble countenance of Sir Kenneth, his face glowing
with recent exertion, and not less so with present emotion.
" What think ye of him, gallants and beauties ? " said
Kiehard. " Doth he resemble an Ethiopian slave, or
doth he present the face of an obscure and nameless ad-
venturer ? No, by my good sword ! — Here terminate bis
various disguises. He hath knelt down betore you, an-

Ui

WATBBLKY N0TXL8.

I

known save by his worth — lie arises, equoUj
guished by birth and by forlune. The adventurous
Kenneth, urise^ David, Earl of Huntingdon, Prince Royal
of Scotland 1 "

There was a general esclamatiou of surprise, and Edith
dropped from her hand the helmet which she had just
receiced.

"Tea, my masters," said the Eing, " it is even so. Te
know how Scotland deceived us when ^be proposed to
send this valiant Earl, with a bold company of her best
and noblest, to aid our arms in this conquest of Palestine,
but failed to comply with her engagements. This noble
youth, under whom the Scottish Crusaders were to have
been arrayed, thought foul scorn Ihal his arm should be
withheld from the holy warfare, and joined us at Sicily
with a small train of devoted and faithful attendoDts,
which was augraenled by many of his countrymen to
whom the rank of their leader was unknown. The confi-
dants of the Eoyal Prince bad all, aaving one old fol-
lower, fallen by death, when his secret, but too well kept,
had nearly occasioned my cutting olT, in a Scottish adven-
turer, one of the bleat h p f F p — Wliy did you
not mention you ank bl H t d n, when endan-
gered by my h y d pa^ nee ? — Was it
that you though B 1 d t^p t! f b ing the advan-
tage I possessed tb h f Ki whom I have so
oflen found hostil ?

" I did you not that injustice, royal Richard," answered
the Earl of Huntingdon ; "but my pride brooked not that
I should avow myself Prince of Scotland in order to save
my life, endangered for default of loyally. And, more-
over, I had made my vow to preserve ray rank unknown
till the Crusade should be accomplished ; nor did I

I

THE .TALISMAN.

163

placeil Limself, by his ci

lioii it save in articiih mortis, and under the seal of con-
fession, to yonder reverend hemiiL"

" It was the knowledge of that secret, then, which made
the good man bo urgent wilh me to recall my severe sen-
tence ? " said Richard. " Well did he say, that, had this
good knight fallen by my mandate, I should have wished
the deed undone though it had cost rae a limh — A limb !
— I should have wished it undone had it eost me my life
— since the world would have aaid that Richard had
abui^ed the condition in which the heir of Scotland had
>nfidenee in his generosity."
of your Grace by what strange
and happy chance this riddle was at length read ? " said
the Queen Berengaria.

" Letters were brought to us from England," aaid the
King, " in which we learnl, among other unpleasant news,
that tlie King of Scotland had seized upon three of our
nobles, when on a pilgrimage to Soiut Ninian, and alleged
as a cause, that his heir, being supposed to be fighting in
the nmks of the Teutonic Knights, against the heathen
of Borussia, was, in fact, in our camp and in otir power;
and, therefore, William proposed to hold these nobles as
hostages for his safety. This gave me the first light on
the real rank of the Knight of the Leopard, and my sus-
picions were confirmed by De Vaux, who, on his return
from Ascalon, brought back wilh hira the Earl of Hun-
tingdon's sole attendant, a thick-skulled slave, who had
gone thirty miles to unfold to De Vaux a secret he should
have told to me."

" 0I<1 Stranchan must he excused," said the Lord of
Gilaland. " He knew from experience that my heart ia
somewhat softer than if I wrote myself Plantagenet,"

" Thy heart soft ? thou eotninodity of old iron — and

IC-I

WAVBKLRT JJOVBtS.

Cumberland flint tliat thou art I " exclaimed the King. —
" It is we Planta.geneta who boast soft and feeling hearts,
Edith," tuiTiing to his cousid, with an expreesion whicli
called the blood into her cheek — " Give me thy hand, my
fair cousin, and, Prince of Scotland, thine."

" Forbear, my lord," said Edith, hanging back, and
endeaTouring to hide her confusion, under an attempt to
rally her royal kinsman's credulity. " Ecmcmher yoa
not that my hand was to be the signal of converting to
the Cliristian faith the Saracen and Aral), Saladin and all
Lis turhaned host ? "

"Ay, but the wind of pi-ophecy hath chopped about,
find sits now in another comer," replied Richard.

" Mock not, lest your bonds be made strong," said the
Hermit, stepping forward, " The heavenly host write
nothing but truth in their brilhant records — it is man's
eyea which are too weak to read their characters ariglit
Know, that when Saladin and Kenneth of Scotland slept
in my grotto, I read in the stars, that there rested under
my roof a prince, the natural foe of Richard, with whom
the fate of Edith Plantagenet was to be united. Could
I doubt that this must he the Soldan, whose rank was
well known to me, as he often visited my cell to converse
on the revolutions of tlie heavenly bodies ? — Again, the
lights of the firmament pi'oclaimed lliat this Prince, the
husband of Edith Plantagenet, should be a Christian ;
and I — weak and wild interpreter ! — argued thence the
conversion of the noble Saladin, whose good qualiUea
seemed often to incline him towards the better faith.
The sense of my weakness hath humbled me to (he dust,
but in the dust I have found comfort I I have not read
aright the fate of others — who can aaaure me but that I
may have miscalculated mine own ? God will not havo

09 break iiito hia rouncil house or spy out hia hidden
mysturiea. We mu t wait hia time with watching and
prayer — with fear and ■«ilh hope. I carae hither the
Blem seer — the proud prophpt — skilled, as I thought, to
iustruct princes, and gifted even with supernatural powere,
but burdened with a weight which I deemed no shoulders
but mine could have borne. But my bands have been
broken ! I go hence humble in mine ignorance, penitent
— and not hopeless."

Witli these words he withdrew from the assembly;
and it is recorded, thai, from that period, his frenzy fits
seldom occurred, and his penances were of a milder char-
acter, and accompanied with betler hopes of the future.
So much is there of self-opinion, eveu in insanity, that the
conviction of his having entertained and expressed an
unfounded prediction wilt so much vehemence, seemed
to operate like loss of blood on -the human frame, to
modify and lower the fever of the brain.

It is neediess to follow into farther particulars the con-
ferences at the royal ten 1, or to inquire whether David,
Earl of Huntingdon, was ba mute in the presence of Edith
Plnntagenet, as when he was bound to act under the
chargcfer of an obscure and nameless adventurer. It
may be well believed that he there expressed, with suit-
able earnestnesa, the passion to which he had so often
before found it difficult (o give words.

The hour of noon now approached, and Saladin waited
to receive the Princes of Christendom in a tent, which,
but for its large size, differed little from that of the ordi-
nary shelter of the common Curdman, or Arab; yet,
beneath its ample and sable covering, wag prepared a
banquet after the most gorgeous fashion of (he East, ex-
tended upon carpets of the richest stuffs, with cushions

laid for Ihc guests. But we cannot stop to describe tbe
cloth of gold and silver— the sujierb embroidery in Arab-
esque— tlie shawls of Cashmere — and the muslins of India,
which were here unfolded in all their splendour; far leas
to tell the different sweetmeat'i, ragouts edged with rice
coloured in various manners, with all the other niceUea
of Eastern cookery. Lambs roasted whole, and game
and poultiy dressed in pilaus, were piled in vessels of
gold, and silver, and porcelain, and intermixed with large
mazera of sherbet, cooled in snow and ice from the
caverns of Mount Lebanon. A magnificent pile of
cushions at the head of the banquet, seemed prepared for
the master of the feast, and such dignitaries as he might
call to share that place of distinction, wliile from the
roof of the lent in all quarters, but over this seat of emi-
nence in particular, waved many a banner and pennon,
the Irophies of battles won, and kingdoms overthrown.
But amongst and above them all, a long lance dispkyed
a shroud, the banner of Death, with this impressive
inscription — " Saladin, King of Kings — Saladot,

ViCTOB OF VlOTORS^SALAOrN MUST DIE." Amid

these preparations, the slaves who had arranged the
relreshmenls stood with drooped heads and folded arms,
mute and motionless as monumental statuary, or as auto-
mata, which waited the tooch of the artist to put them in

Expecting the approach of his princely guests, the
Soldan, imbued, aa most were, with the superstitions of
his time, paused over a horoscope and corresponding
scroll, which had been sent (o him by the Hermit of En-
gaddi when he departed from the camp.

" Strange and mysterious science," he muttered (o
himself, " which, pretending to draw the curtain of futu-

J

THK TALISMAN.

rhy, misleads those whom it seems to guide, and darkens
the scene which il pretends to illuminate ! Who would
not have said that I was Uiat enemy most dangerous to
Ricliai'd, whose enmity was to be ended bymorriaga with
his kinswoman ? Yet il now appears that a union he-
twist this gallant Ear! and the lady will bring about
friendship betwixt Richard and Scotland, an enemy a
dangerous than I, as a wild-cat in a chamber is more to
be dreaded than a lion in a distant desert. — But then," he
continued lo mutter to himself, " the combination inti-
mates, that tbia husband was to be Christian.^ — Chris-
tian?" he repeated, after a. pause,— "That gave iha
insane fanatic star-gazer hopes that I might renounce my
faith ! but me, the faithful follower of our Prophet — me
it should have undeceived. Lie there, mysterious scroll,"
he added, thrusting it under the pile of cushions ; "strange
are ihy bodements and fatal, since, even when true in
themselves, they work upon those who attempt to de-
cipher their meaning, all the effects of falsehood. — How
now, what means this intrusion?"

He spoke lo the dwarf Nectabanus, who rushed into
the tent fearfully agitated, with each strange and dis-
proportioned feature wrenched by horror into stilt more
exlravagaat ugliness, — his mouth open, his eyes staring,
his hands, with their sbrivelled and deformed fingers,
wildly expanded.

" What now," said the Soldan, sternly.

"Accipe hoc.'" groaned out the dwarf.

" Ha ! say's! thou ? " answered Saladin.

"Accipe hoc ! " replied the panic-struck creature, uncon-
scious, perhaps, that he repeated the same words as before.

" Heuce! I am in no vein for foolery," said the Em-
peror.

1«8

WAVBHIiKT MOVBtB.

" Nor am I farther fool," Baid the dwarf, " than to make I
my folly help out my wits to earn my bread, poor help- f
less wretch! — Hear, hear me, great Soldan !"

"Nay, if thou haat actual wrong (o complain of," said |
Saladin, " fool or wise, thou art entitled to the ear of a
King. — Retire hither with me ; " and he led him into tita

Whatever their conferenee related to, it was soon
broken off by the fanfare of the trumpets, announcing the
arrival of the various Christian princes, whom Sala^lin.
welcomed to his tent with a royal courtesy well becoming
their rank and his own ; but chiefly he saluted the young
Earl of Huntingdon, and generously congratulated him
upon prospects, which seemed to have interfered with
and overclouded those which he had himself entertained.

" But think not," eiud the Soldan, "thou noble youth,
that the Prince of Scotland is more welcome to Satadioj
than was Kenneth to the solitary Ilderim when they met
in the desert, or the disti-essed Eihiop to the Hakim
Adonbec. A brave and generous disposition like tluQO
hath a. value independent of condition and birth, as the
cool draught which I here proffer thee, is as deliciotis
from an earthen vessel aa from a goblet of gold."

The Earl of Huntingdon made a suitable reply, grate-
fldly acknowledging the various important services he
had received from the generous Soldan ; but when he
had pledged Saladin in the bowl of sherbet, which the
Soldan had proffered to htm, be could not help remaddng
with a smile, "The brave cavalier, Ilderim, knew not
of the formation of ice, but the munificent Soldan coola
hia sherbet with snow."

" Wouldst ihou have an Arab or a Curdman as wise
as a Hakim?" said the Soldan. "He who does on ft

4

THK TALISlUiN. 169

disguise must make the sentiments of bis heart and tho
learning of hia head accord with the dress which ha aa-
Bumea. I desired to see how a brave and single-hearted
cavalier of Frangistan would conduct himaelf in debate
with such a chief as I thea seemed; and I questioned ihe
troth of a weli-known fact, to know by what arguments
thou wouldst support thy assertion."

"While they were speaking, the Archduke of Austria,
who stood a little apart, was struck with the mention of
iced sherbet, and took with plensure and some blunlness
the deep goblet, as the Earl of Huutingdon was about to

"Moat delicious!" he exclaimed, after a deep draught,
which the heat of the weather, and the feverishnes3 fol-
lowing the debauch of the preceding day, had rendered
doubly acceptable. He sighed as he handed the cup to
the Grand Master of the Templars. Saladin made a
sign to the dwarf, who advanced and pronounced, with a
harsh voice, the words, Accipe hoc 1 The Templar started,
like a sleed who se€8 a lion under a bush, beside the
pathway ; yet instantly recovered, and lt> hide, perhaps,
hia confusion, raised the goblet to his lips — but those lips
never touched tliat goblet's rim. The sabre of Saladin
left its sheath as lightning leaves the cloud. It waa
waved in the air, — and the head of the Grand Master
rolled to the extremity of the tent, while the trunk re-
mained for a second standing, with the goblet still clenched
in its grasp, then fell, the liquor mmgling with the blood
that spurted from the veins."

* The iniiiuier of the death of Ute Bnppoeed Gnuid Master of the
Templurs, was taken from tha reol tragedy Boacled by Salodio, upon
the person of Arnold or Reginald do ChatUion, This person, a Boldier
if fortune, had seized a eaatle on the verge of the desert, from whence

J

170 WAVEBLET MOTSLS.

There was a general exclamalion of treason, and Aas~
tria, nearest to whom Saladto stood with the bloody
sabre in his liand, started back as if apprehensive that hia
turn was to come next. Richard and others laid hasd an
their swords.

" Fear nothing, noble Austria," said Saladin, as. com-
posedly as if nothing had happened, " nor you, royal
England, be wrath at what you have seen. Not for his
manifold treasons ; — not for the attempt which, as may
be vouched by his own squire, he instigated against JQng
Richard's life ; — not that he pursued the Prince of Scot-
land and myself in the desert, reducing us to save oar
lives by the speed of our horses ; — not that he had stirred
up the Maronitcs to attack us upon this very occasion,
^ad I not brought up unexpectedly so many Arabs as
rendered the scheme abortive ; — not for any or all of
these crimes does he now lie there, although each wers '
deserving such a doom ; — but because, scarce half an
hour ere lie polluted our presence, as the Bimooin cm-
poisons the atmosphere, he poniarded his comrade and
accomplice, Conrade of Montserrat, lest he should am- I
fess the infamous plots in which they had both been '
engaged."

he made plundering excnraiDiis, iuii> losnlted and nbnsed the pilgrims
vbo were on their journey to Me^GO. It was chiefly on his accouat
that Snlttdin declared war ngiilnst Guy de Losignan, tiio last Latin
King of the Holy Land. The Christian monarch irns defeated b/
Saladin with the losa of thirty thousand men, and haying baon mad*
prisoner, with Chatillon and othert, was conducted before the Soldan.
The victor presented to hisi exhausted captive a cup ofBhei^et, cooled
in anow. Lusignan having drank, was about to hand ths cup to
Chatillon when the Sultan interfered. " Your person," heEaid,"in)r
royal prisoner, ia Eacrad, but ths cup of Saladin must not be profaned
by a blasphemous robber and raffiun." So saying, be slaw the cap.
Utb knight by a blow of his seimilaj-.— See Gibbob's Hibtobx.

TOE TAI.ISMA^T.

171

" How ; f 'onrade murdei'eJ ? — And by tlie Gnind
Master, his sponsor and most inlimalB friend!" ex-
claimed Richard. " Noble Soldan, I would not doubt
thee — yet this must be proved — otherwise "

"There stands the evidence," said SaJadin, pointing to
ibi? terrified dwarf. "AUiib. who sends the fire-fly to
illuminate the nigbt-3ea.=on, can di^covei- secret crimes by
(lie most contemptible mean?."

The Soldan proceeded to lell the dwarf' a stoiy, which
iimounted to this. — In his foolish curiosity, or, as he
partly coDfessed, with some thoughts of pilfering, Necta-
baiius had strayed icto the tent of Coiirade, which had
Iieen deserted by his attendaala, some of whom had left
the encampment to carry the news of bis defeat to his
brother, and others were availing themselves of the means
which Saladin had supplied for revelling. The wounded
man slept under the influence of Saladin's wonderfiil
talisman, so that the dwarf bad opportunily to pry about
at pleasure, until he was frightened into concealment by
the sound of a heavy step. He skulked behind a curtain,
yet could see the motions', and bear the words of the
Grand Master, who entered, and cai-efiiily secured the
covering of the pavilion behind him. His victim started
from sleep, and it would appear that he instantly sus-
pected the purpose of bis old aa=oeiate, for it was in a
tone of alarm that be demanded wherefore he disturbed

" I come to confess and absolve thee," answered the
Grand Master.

Of their farther speech the terrified dwarf remembered
little, save that Cfem-ade implored the Grand Master not
to break a woimded reed, and that the Templar struck
him to the heart with a Tnrkish dagger, with the wordf

172" WATERIxET NOVELS.

Accipe hoe — worda which long afterwards haunted the
terrified imagination of the concealed witness.

"I verified tlie tale," said Saladin, "by causing tha
body to be examined; and I made this unhappy being',
whom Allah hath made the discoverer of the crime, re-
peat in your own presence the worda which the mnrderer
spoke, and you yourselves saw the effect which they pro-
duced upon his conscience 1"

The Soldan paused, and the King of England broke
silence : — ,

" If this be true, as I doubt not, we hare witnessed a
great act of jnstiee, though it bore a difierent aspect.
But wherefore in this presence ? wherefore with tbine

"I bad designed otherwise," said Saladin; "but had I
not hastened his doom, it had been aliogether averted,
since, if I had permitted him to taste of my cup, as he
was about to do, how could I, without incurring the brand ,
of in hospitality, have done him to death as he deserved ?
Had he murdered my father, and afterwards partaken of i
my food and my bowl, not a hair of his head CAuId have
been injured by me. But enough of him — let his carca&a
and his memory be removed from amongst us."

The body was carried away, and the marks of the
slaughter obliterated or coneealed with such ready dex-
terity, as showed that the case was not altogether so
uncommon as to paralyse the assistants and ofGcers of
Salad in's household.

But the Christian princes felt that the scene which
they had beheld weighed heavily on their spirits, and-
although, at the courteous invitation of the Soldan, they
assumed their seats at the banquet, yet it was with the
silence of doubt and amazement. The spirits of Richard

THE TALIBMAIf. 173

alone sniinoiinted all cause for Buspidon or cmtiarras*'
meat. Yet he, too, seemed lo ruminate on some proposi-
tion, ftH if he were desirous of making it in the most
insinuating and acceptable manner which waa possible.
At length he drank off a large bowl of wine, and address-
ing the Soldan, desired to know whether it was not true
that he had honoured the Earl of Huntingdon with a
persona! encounter.

Saladin answered with a smile, that he had proved his
horse and his weapons with the heir of Scotland, as cava-
liers are wont to do with each other when they meet in
the desert — and modestly added, that though the combat
was not entirely decisive, he had not, on hLs part, much
reason to pride himself on the event. The Scot, on the
other hand, disclaimed the attributed superiority, and
wished to assign it to the Soldan.

" Enough of honour thou hast had in the encounter,"
said Richard, "and I envy thee more for that, than for
the smiles of Edith Planlagenet, though one of them
might reward a bloody day's work. — But what say you,
noble princes ; is it fitting that such a royal ring of
chivalry should break up without something being done
for future limes to speak of? What is the overthrow and
death of a traitor, to such a fair garland of honour as la
here assembled, and which ought not to part without
witnessing something more worthy of their regard? How
say you, princely Soldan — What if we two should now,
and before this fair company, decide the long-contended
question for this land of Palestine, and end at once these
tedious wars? Tonder are the lists ready, nor can
Paynirarie ever hope a better chumpion than thou.
I, unless worthier offers, will lay down my gauntlet
in tehalf of Christendom, and, in all love and honour,

174

WATKKLET SOTKLS

we will do mortal battle for the possesaiou of Jcrusa- '
km."

There was a deep paose for the Soldao's answer. His
cheek and brow coloured highly, and it was the opinion 1
of many present, that he hesitated whether he should
accept the challenge. At length he said, " Fighting for
the Iloly City against those whom we regard as idolaters,
and worshippers of stocks and stones, and graven images,
1 might confide that Allah would strengthen my arm ; or
if I fell beneath the sword of the Melech Bic, I could not
pass to Paradise by a more glorious death. But Allah
has already given Jerusalem to the true believers, aod it
were a tempting the God of the Prophet to peril, upon
my own personal strength and skill, tliat which I hold
securely by the superiority of ray forces."

" If not for Jei-usalem, then," said Richard, in the tone |
of one who would entreat a favour of an intimate friend,
" yet, for the love of honour, let ua run at least tliree
coursea with grinded laacea?"

"Even this," said Sutadin, half smiling at C<Bur ds j
Lion's affectionate earnestness for the combat, "even thia 1
I may not lawfully do. The master places Ibe shepherd
over the flock, not for the shepherd's own sake, but for
the sake of the sheep. Had I a son to ligld the scept|-e |
when I fell, I might have had the liberty, as I have I
will, to brave this bold encounter ; but your own Scripture
Bayeth, that when the herdsman is smitten, the sheep are
scattered."

"Thou hast had all the fortune," said Eichard, turning
to the Earl of IlunCingdon with a sigh. "I would have
given the best year in my life for that one half hour be- i
side the Diamond of the Desert ! "

llie chivalrous extravagance of Richai'd awakened the

THE TALISUAK. 175

Spirits of the aasembly, and when at length they arose to
depart, Saladin advanced aad took Coaur de Lion by the

" Noble King of England," he said, " we dow part,
never to meet again. Tliat your league ia dissolved, no
more to be reanited, and that your native forces are far
tco few to enable you to prosecute your enterprise, ia as
well known (o me as to yourself. I may not yield you
up that Jerusalem which you so much desire to hold. It
is to us, as to you, a Holy City. But whatever other
terms Richard demands of Saladin, shall be as willingly
yielded as yonder founlain yields its waters. Ay, and
the same should be as frankly afforded by Saladin, if
Richard stood in the desert with but two archers in his

The next day saw Richard's return to his own camp,
and in a short space ailerwarda the young Earl of Htm-
tingdon was espoused by Edith PlanlageneL The Soldan
sent, as a nuptial present on this occasion, the celebrated
Taiisman ; but though many cures were wrought by
means of it in Europe, none equalled in success and celeb-
rity those which the Soldan achieved. It is atill in exist-
ence, having been bequeathed by the Earl of Huntingdon
to a brave knight of Scotland, Sir Simon of the Lee, in
whose ancient and highly honoured family it is still pre-
served ; and although charmed stones have been dismissed
from the modem Pharmacoposia, its virtues are still ap-
plied to for stopping blood, and in cases of canine madness.

Our story closes here, as the terms on which Richard
relinquished his conquests are to be found in every his-
tory of the period.

!

I)

l>i

CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE

TOL.

CHRONICLES OP THE CANONGATE.

jar. etroftaitgrfi fntcofluctfl anotljcr aCaU,

uppearol

Together both od Uw high la
Ttwj droTe afield.

I HAVE sometimes wondered why all the faTourit«
occupations and pastimes of mankind go to the disturh-
ancB of that happy slate of tranquillity, that Otium, as
Horace terms il, which he says is the object of all men's
prayers, whether preferred from sea or land ; and that
the undisturbed repose, of which we are so tenacious,
when duty or necessity compels ua to abandon it, is pre-
cisely what we long to exchange for a state of excitation,
as soon aa we may prolong it at our own pleasure.
Briefly, you have only to say to T man, " remain «t rest,"
and you instantly inspire tlie love of labour. The sports-
man toils like his gamekeeper, the master of the pack
lakes aa severe exercise as his whipper-in, the statesman

180 IVAVERLEr SOVELg.

or politicinn drudges more than the professional lawyer ;
and to come to m; own case, the volunteer author subjects
himself to the riak. of painful criticifim, and the assured
certainty of raenta] and manual labour, just as completely
aa his needy brother, whose necessities compel him to
assume the pen.

These reflections have been suggested by an annuacia-
tion on the part of Janet, " that the Kwle Gillie-wbitefool
was come from the printing-ofBce."

" GilUe-blackfoot you should call him, Janet," was my I
response, " for he is neither more nor less than an imp of f
the devil, come to torment me for copy, for so the printen I
call a supply of manuscript for the press."

" Now, Cot forgie your honour," said Janet j " for it is ,
no like your ainsell to give such names to a faitherleBft I

" I have got nothing else to give him, Janet — he must I
wait a little."

" Then I have got some breakfast to g^ve the hit gillie,"
said Jauet ; " and he can wait by the fireside in
kitchen, till your honour's ready ; and cood enough for ■
the like of him, if he was to wait your honour's pleaaurs'f
all day."

"But, Janet," said I to my little active superintendent,
on her return to the parlour, after having made her hos-
pitable arrangements, " I begin fo find this writing our
Chronicles is rather more tiresome than I expected, for
here comes this little fellow to a?k for manuscript — that 1
is, for something to print — and I have got none to give
him."

" Your honour can he at nae loss ; I have seen you '
write fast and fast enough ; and for subjects, you have the
whole Ilighliinds to write about, and I am sure you know

181

a hundred talos better tbiin that about Hamish Mac
Tavi^h, for it \\&i but about a young cateitin and ati auld
carline, when all's done ; and if tbay had burned the
rudas queen for a witch, I am thinking, may be, they
would not have tyned their coals — and her to gar her
neer-do-weel son shoot a gentleman Cameron ! I am
third cousin to the Camerons mjsell — my blood warms to
them — -And if you want to write about deserters, I am
sure there were deserters enough on the top of Arthur's
Seat, when the MacRaaB broke out, and oa that woful

day beside Leith Pier — Obonari ! "

Here Janet began to weep, and to wipe her eyes with
her apron. For my part, the idea I wanted was supplied,
but I hesitated to make use of it. Topics, like times, are
apt to become common by frequent use. It is only an ass
like Juslice Shallow, who would pitch upon the over-
scutched tunes, which the carmen whistled, and try to
pass them off as his fancies and his ffood-nighls. Now,
the Highlands, thongh formerly a rich mine for original
matter, are, as my friend Mi's. Bethune Bahol warned
me, in some degree worn out by the incessant labour of
modern romancers and novelists, who, finding in tliose
remote regions primitive habits and manners, have vainly
imagined that the public can never tire of them ; and so
kilted Highlanders ai'e to be found as frequently, and
neaily of as genuine descent, on the shelves of a circu-
lating libi'ary, as at a Caledonian bull. Much might
liave been made at an earlier time out of the history of a
Highland regiment, and the singular revolution of ideas
which must have taken place in the minds of those who
composed il, when exchanging their native hills for the
battle-fields of the Continent, and their simple, and some-
times indolent domestic habits, for the regular exertions

I

182

WATEHLEY NOVELS.

demmided by modem discipline. But the maiiet
stalled. There is Mrs. Grant of Laggan, has drawn the
mnnDers, custom?, and superstitioDs of the mountains in
their natural unsophisticated statu ; ' and my fnend, Gea-
eral Stewart of Garth,t in giving the real history of the
Highland regiments, has rendered any attempt to fill up
Ihe sketch with fancy-colouring extremely rash and pre-
carious. Yet I, too, have still a lingering fancy to add a
stone to the cairn; and without calling in imagioalion to
aid the impreraions of juvenile recollection, I may just
attempt to embody one or two scenes illustrative of the
Highland character, and which belong peculiarly to the
Cliroaicles of the Canongate, to the gray headed eld of
whom they are as familiar as to Chrystal Crofiangry.
Yet I will not go back lo the days of clanship and clay-
mores. Have at you, gentle reader, with a tale of Two
Drovers. An oyster may be crossed in love, saya the
gentle Tilburina — and a drover may be touched
point of honour, says the Chronicler of the Ctutongate;

a the

* Letters from the Mnuntaina, 8 vols.— Essays on tha SttperstitioiM
of Uia Higl.londers— Tbe Hlghlandcra, and other Poama, &c.

t ThB gallant and amiable aathor of the History of the Highluid
Beglment?, in whoee glorious lervices his own shara had hsen grest,
want out GoTernor of St. Lucia in 1828, and died in that island on tha
leth of December, 1829, — no man more regretlfld, or porhaps bv *
VFider circle of friends and acquaintance-

L

THE TWO DKOVEES.

CHAPTER I.

It was the day after Doune Fair when my story com-
mences. It Lad been a brisk market ; several deulers
had attended from the northern nnd midland counties in
England, and English money had fiown so merrily
about as to gladden the hearts of the Highland farmers.
Many large droves were about to set off for England,
under the protection of their owners, or of the lopsmen
whom they employed in the tedious, laborious, and re-
sponsible office of driving the cattle for many hundred
miles, from the market where they had been purchased,
to the fields or farm-yarda where they were to he fattened
for the shambles.

Tbe Highlanders, in particular, are masters of this diffi<
cult trade of driving, which eeema to suit them as well us
the trade of war. It affords exercise for all their habits
of patient endurance and active exertion. They are re-
quired to know perfectly (he drove-roads, which lie over
the wildest tracks of the country, and to avoid as much as
possible liie highways, which distress the feet of the bul-
locks, and the turnpikes, which annoy tbe spirit of the

WAVERLET SOVEta.

drover ; whflreaa on the broad green or gray track, which
leads across the pathless moor, the herd not only move
at ease and without taxation, but, if they mind their busi-
nese, may pick up a mouthful of food by the way. At
nighi, the drovers usually sleep along with their cattle, let
(he weather be what it will ; and many of these hardy men
do not once rest under a roof during a journey on foot
from Lochaher to Lincolnshire. Tiiey are paid very
highly, for the trust reposed is of the last importance, as
it depends on their prudence, vigilance, and honesty,
whether the cattle reach the final market in good order,
and afford a profit to tlie grazier. But as tliey maintain
themselves at their own expense, they are especially
economical in that particular. At the period we speak
of, a Highland drover was victualled for his long and toil-
some journey with a few handiuls of oatmeal, and two or
three onions, renewed from time to time, and a ram'a hora
filled with whisky, which he used regularly, but sparingly,
every night and morning. Hia dirk, or ahene-dhu, (i. «.
black-knife,) so worn as to be concealed henealh the arm,
or hy the folds of the plaid, was his only weapon, excepl>-
ing the cudgel with which Le directed the movements of
the cattle. A Highlander was never fo happy as on
these occasions. There was a variety in the whole jour-
ney, wliich exercised the Celt's natural curio=ity and love
of motion; there were the constant change of place and
scene, the petty adventures incidental to the traffic, and
the intercourse with the vaiiotis farmers, graziers, anil
tradei's, intermingled with occasional merry-makings, not
the less acceptable to Donald tliat they were void of ex-
pense ; — and there was the consciousness of superior skill ;
for the Highlander, a child amongst flocks, is a princo
amongsl herds, and his natural habits induce him to (

0) to dj^^J

dain llie sbephcrd'a slotbful life, so tbat he feels h
nowbere more at home than when foHowing a galJant
drove of bis country catcle in the character of their guar-

Of tbe number who left Doune in the moraing, and with
the purpose we have described, not a Glunamie of them
all cocked bis bonnet more briskly, or gartered his t
■ hose under knee over a pair of more promising tp%og»
(legs) than did Robin Oig M'Combich, called familiarly
Koliin Oig, that is. Young, or the Lesser, Robin. Though
small of slalure, as the epithet Oig implies, and not vety
strongly limbed, he was as light and alert as one of the
deer of bis mountains. He had an elasticity of step,
which, in tbe course of a long march, made many a stout
fellow envy bim ; and tbe manner in which he busked bi^
plaid and adjusted bis bonnet, argued a consciousness that
so smart a John Highhindman as himself would not [luss
unnoticed among the Lowland lasses. The ruddy cheek,
red lips, and white teeth, set off a countenance which had
gained by exposure to the weaiiier a healthful and hardy
rather than a rugged hue. If Robin Oig did not laugh,
or even smile frequently, as indeed ia not the practice
among bis countrymen, his bright eyes usually gleamed
from under his bonnet with an expre
ready to be turned into mirth.

The departure of Robin Oig wa:
little town, in and near which he had many friends, male
and fe:oale. He was a topping person in his way, trans-
acted considerable business on his own behalf, and was
intrusted by tbe best farmers in the Higlilands, in prefer-
ence to any other drover in that distriot. He might have
increased his business. to any extent had he condescended
to manage it by deputy ; but except a lad or two, sister's

f cheeifulness

1 incident ii

186 WATERLET

Eons of Ills own, Robin rejected the idea of assisfance,
conscious, perhaps, how much his reputation depended
upon his attending in person to the practical discharge of
his duty in every instance. Ho remained, therefore, con-
tented with the highest premitiin given to persons of hla
description, and comforted himself with the hopes that a
few journeys to England might enable him to conduct
business on his own account, in a manner becoming his
birth. For Robin Oig's father, Lachlan M'Combich,
(or son of my friend, his actual clan-surname being
H'Gregor,) had been so called by the celebrated Bot>
Koy, because of the particular fnendship which had i
aistcd between the grandsire of Bobin and that renow
cateran. Some people even say, that Robin Oig
rived his Christian name from one as renowned in
wilds of Lochlomond as ever was his namesake Robin
Hood, in the precincts of merry Sherwood. " Of such
ancestry," as James Boswell says, " who would not be
proud ? " Robin Oig was proud aecoi-dingly ; but his fre-
quent visits to England and to the Lowlands had given
him tact enough to know that preteufiion^, which still gave
him a little right to distinction in his own lonely glen,
might be both obnoxious and ridiculous if preferred else-
where. The pi'ide of birtli, tiicrefore, was like thi
treasure, the secret subject of his contemplation, but
exhibited to strangers as a subject of boasting.

Many were the words of gratulation and good
which were bestowed on Robin Oig. The judges com-
mended his drove, especially Robin's own properly, which
were the beat of them. Some thrust out their snuff-raullB
for the parting pinch— others tendered the doch-an-dor-
rach, or parting cup. All cried — " Good luck travel out

the '

: be
fre-

;ave
ly glen,
ed else- I

>d luck ^\

with you and i

I home with you.-

ick travel out J

: you luck ii^H^H

THK TWO DHOVEaa.

ihe S;ixon market — brave notes in the leabhar-dhu,"
(blatk pockBtbookj) " and plenty of English gold in the
tporran" (pouch of goatskin.)

The bonny lasses made Iheir adieus more modestly,
and more than one, it was said, would have given her
best brooch to be certain that it was upon her that his
eye last rested as he turned towards tlic road.

Eobio Oig had ju.^t given the preliminary " ffoo-hoo ! "
to urge forward the loiterers of the drove, when there
was 3i cry behind him.

" Stay, Robin — bide a hSink. Here is Janet of Tomsr
bouricb — auld Janet, your father's sister."

" Plague on her, for an auld Highland witch and gpae-
wife," said a farmer from the Carse of Stirling*; " she'll
cast some of her cantrips on the cattle."

" She canna do that," said another sapient of the same
profession — " Robin Oig is no the lad to leave any of
thera, without tying Saint Mungo's knot on their tails,
and that will put to her speed the best witch that ever
flew over Dimayet upon a broomstick."

It may not be indifferent to the reader to know, that
the Highland cattle are peculiarly liable to be (aie», or
infected, by spells and wilchcraftj which judicious people
guard against, by knitting knots of peculiar complexity
on the tufl of hair which terminates the animal's tail.

But the old woman, who was the object of the farmer's
suspicion, seemed only busied about the drover, without
paying any attention to the drove, Robin, on the con-
trary, appeared rather impatient of her presence.

" What auld-world fancy," he said, "ha.n brought you
Eo early from the ingle-side this morning, Muhme ? I am
sure I bid you good-even, and had your Grod-speed, last

I

188 WAVEELEY NOVELS.

"And left me more siller than the nseless old woman
will use lill you come back again, bird of my bosom,"
said tlie aibjl. " But it is little I would care for the
fiwd that nourishes me, or ibe fire tbat warms me, or for
Good's blessed sun itself, if aught but weel should happen
to (he grandson of my father. So let me walk the deatil
round you, that you may go safe out into the far foreign
land, and come safe home."

Robin Oig stopped, half embarrassed, half laughing,
and signing to those near that he only complied with the
old woman to soothe her bomour. In the meantime, she
traced around hiro, with wavering steps, the propitiation,
which some have thought has been derived from the
Druidical mythology. It consists, as is well known, in
the person who makes the deasil walking three times
round the person who is the object of the ceremony,
taking care to move according to lie course of the sun.
At once, however, she stopped short, and exclaimed, in a

L voice of alarm and horror, " Grandson of my father, there
is blood on your hand."
'' Hush, for God's sake, aunt," said Robin Oig; "you
will bi-ing more trouble on yourself with this Taisha-
taragh " (second sight) " than yon will be able to get out
of for many a day."
The old woman only repeated, with a ghastly look,
"There is blood on your hand, and it is English blood.
The blood of the Gael is richer and redder. Let us see
Ere Robin Oig could prevent her, which, indeed, could
only have been done by positive violence, so hasly and
peremptory were her proceedings, she had drawn from
his side the dirk which lodged in the folds of his plaid,
and held it up, exclaiming, although the weapon gleamed
:

gleamed

J

r and bright in the bod, " Blood, blood — Saxon blood
in. Kobia Oig M'Combich, go not this day to Eng-

" Pratt tratt," answered Robin Oig, " that will r
do neiiher — it would be next thing to running the coun-
try. For shame, Muhme — give me the dirk. Yoii
cannot tell by the colour the difference betwixt the blood
of a black bullock and a white one, and you apeak of
knowing Saxoa from Gaelic blood. All men have their
blood from Adam, Muhrae. Give me my skene-dhu,
and let me go on my road. I should Lave been half way
to Stirling Brig by this time. — Give me my dirk and let

" Never will I give it to you," said the old i
"Never will I quit my hold on your plaid, unless yon
promise me not to wear that unhappy weapon."

The women around him ui^d him also, saying few o
his aunt's words fcU lo the ground ; and as the Lowland
fanners continued to look moodily on the scene, Kohin
Oig determined lo close it at any sacrifice.

" Well, then," said the yonng drover, giving the scab-
hard of the weapon to Hugh Morrison, " you Lowlanders
care nothing for these freats. Keep my dirk for me. I
cannot give it to you, because it was my father's; but
your drove follows ours, and I am content it should he in
your keeping, not in mine — Will ihis do, Muhme ? "

" It must," said the old woman — " that is, if the Low-
lander is mad enough to cany the knife."

The strong westlandman laughed aloud.

" Goodwife," said he, JJ I am Hugh Morrison from
Glenae, come of the Manly Morrisons of auld langsyne,
that never took short weapon against a man in their lives.
And neither needed they. They had their broadswords.

WAVBBI.KT HOTELS.

and I bavt; tills hit
— " for dirking ov,
Highlandmaii — Ye
re, and you

pple," showing a formidable cudgei

the board, I leave that to John

eedna enort, none of you Highland-

ipeeial Eobin, I'll keep the bit knife.

if jou are feared for the auld spaewife's tale, and give il
back to jou whenever you want it."

Kohin was not particularly pleased with some part
Hngh Morrison's speech ; but he had learned
travelfi more patience than belonged to hii Highland con-
stitution originally, and he aecepl«d the service of
descendant of the Manly Morrisons without finding
with the rather depreciating manner in which it
. offered.

"If he had not had his morning in his head, and
but a Dumfries -shire hog into the boot,
epoken more like a gentleman. But you cannot have
more of a sow than a grpmph. It'n shame my father'
knife should ever slash a haggis for the like of him."

Thus saying, (but saying it in Gaelic,) Robin drove
his cattle, and waved farewell to all behind him.
was in the greater haste, because he expected to join
Falkuk a comrade and brother in profession, with wl
be proposed to travel in company.

Robin Oig's chosen friend was a young Englishman,"^
Harry "Wakefield by name, well known at every northern
market, and in his way as much famed and honoured aa
our Highland driver of bullocks. He was nearly six feet
high, gallantly formed to keep the rounds at SmithGeld,
or maintain the ring at a wrestling match ; and although
he might have been overmalchedj perhaps, among the
regular professors of the Fancy, yet, as a yokel,
or a chance customer, he was able to give a bellyful
any amateur of the pugilistic art. - Doncasler races

1 hb

con-
f the I

fauU,^^J

beJ^H

THE TWO

19:

him in his glory, belting his guinea, and generally suc-
cessfully; nor was there a main, fought in Yorkshire, the
feeders being persons of celebrity, at which he was not
to he seen, if business pemiitled. But though a sprack
lad, and fond of pleasure and its haunts, Harry Wake-
field was steady, and not the cautious R«bin Oig M'Com-
bich himself was more attentive to the main chance.
His holidays were holidays indeed ; but his days of work
were dedicated to steady and persevering labour. In
countenance and temper, Wakefield was the model of old
England's merry yeomen, whose clothyard shafts, in ho
many hundred battles, asserted her superiority over the
nations, and whose good sabres, in our own time, are her
cheapest and most assured defence. His mirth was
readily excited; for, strong in limb and constitution, and
fortunate in circumstances, he was disposed to be pleased
with every thing about him ; and such difficulties aa he
might occasionally encounter, wei^e, to a man of his en-
ergy, rather matter of amusement than serious annoyance.
With all the merits of a sanguine temper, our young
English drover was not without his defects. He was
irascible, sometimes to the verge of being quarrelsome ;
and perhaps not the less inclined to bring his disputes to
a pugilistic decision, because he found few antagonists
able to stand up to him in the boxing ring.

It is difficult to say how Harry Wakefield and Robia
Oig first became intimates ; but it is certain a close
acquaintance had taken place betwixt them, although
they had apparently few common subjects of conversation
or of interest, so soon as their talk ceased to be of bul
locks. Robin Oig, indeed, spoke tlie English language
rather imperfectly upon any other topics but atots and
kyloes, and Harry Wakefield could never bring his broad

Torksliii-e longue to utter a single word of Gaelic

] Robin spent a whole morning, during a walk
over Minch Moor, io attempliag to teach his companion
to utter, with true precision, the shibboleth Llhu, which
is the Gaelic for a calf From Ti-aquair to Murder-
cairn, the hill rung with the discordant attempts irf tha
Saxon upon the unmanageable monosyllable, and the
heartfelt laugh which followed every failure. They had,
however, better modes of awakening the echoes ; for
"Wakefield could sing many a ditty to the praise of Moll,
Susan, and Cicely, and Kobin Oig had a particular gift
at whistling interminable pibrochs through all their invo-
lutions, and wliat was more agreeable to his companion's
southern ear, knew many of the northern airs, both lively
and pathetic, to which Wakefield learned to pipe a bass.
Thus, though Robin could hardly have comprehended
his companion's stories about horse-racing, and cock-.
fighting, or fox-hunting, and although his own legends of
clan-fights and creaghi, varied with talk of Highland
goblins and fairy folk, would have been caviare to his
companion, they contrived nevertheless to find a degree
of pleasure in each other's company, which had for three
years back induced them to join company and travel to-
gether, when the direction of their journey permitted.
Fach, indeed, found his advantage in this companionship j
for where could the Englishman have found a guide
through the Western Highlands like Robin Oig M'Com-
bich? and when they were on what Harry called the
right side of the Border, his patronage, which was osten-
eive, and his purse, which was heavy, were at all t
at the service of his HiglJand friend, and on many o
Eions his liberality did him genuine yeoman's service.

CHAPTER n.

O thus II was,
Ana though I
And h&TlvK nc

The pair of friends had traversed with their uaaal
cordiality the grassy wilda of Liddesdale, and crosaed the
o|iposite part of Cumberland, emphatically called The
Wa^te, In these solitary regions, the cattle under tha
charge of our drovers derived their subsistence cbieBy
by gicking their food as they went along the drove-road,
or Bometimes by the tempting opportunity of a start and
owerhup, or invasion of the neighbouring pasture, where
an occasion presented itself. But now the scene changed
before ihem ; they' were descending towards u fertile and
enclosed country, where no such liberties could be taken
with impunity, or without a previous arrangement and
bargain with the possessors of the ground. Tliis was
more especially the case, as a great northern fair was
upon the eve of taking place, where both the Scotch and
English drover expected to dispose of a part of their
cattle, which it was desirable (o produce in the markef,
rested and in good order. Fields were therefore difficult
to be obtained, and only upon high terms. This necessity
occasioned a temporary separation betwixt the two

194 TTAVEEIET HOTELS.

friends, wlio went to bat^in, each a3 lie could, for H
separate accommodation of his herd. Unhappily
chanced that both of them, unknown to each otbci",
(bought of hargainiug for the ground tliey wanled on the
property of a country gentleman of some forliine, whose
eslale lay in the neigbbourhood. The English drover
applied to the bailiff on the property, who was known lo
him. It chanced that the Cumbrian Sqnire, who had
enlerlained some suspicions of his manager's honesty, was
taking occasional measures to ascertain how far they were
well founded, and had desired that any inquiries about
his enclosures, with a Tieh lo occupy them for. a tem-
porary purpose, should be referred (o himself. As, how-
ever, Mr. Irehy had gone ihe day before upon a journey
of some miles' distance to the northward, the bailiff chose
to consider the check upon his full powers as for the time
removed, and concluded that be should best consult his
master's interest, and perhaps his own, in making an
agreement with Hai'ry "Wakefield. Meanwhile, ignorant
of what his comrade was doing, Bobia Oig,- on his fade,
chanced to be orertaken by a good-looking smart litlle
man upon a pony, most knowingly hogged and cropped,
as was then the fashion, the rider wearing tight leather
breeches, and long-necked bright spurs. This cavalier
asked one or two pertinent questions about markets and
the price of stock. So Robin, seeing him a well-judging
civil gentleman, took the freedom to ask him whether he
could let him know if there was any grass-land to be let
in that neighbourhood, for the temporary accommodation
of bis drove. He could not have put the ([uestion to
more willing ears. The gentleman of the buckskin was
the proprietor, with whose bailiff Harry Wakefield had
dealt, or was in the act of dealing.

i

TBi;: TWO DBOTBBS.

" Thou art in good luck, ray canny Scot," said Mr.
i, for I see thy cattle have

done their day's work, and 1

1 at my disposal the

oalj field nitbin three miles that ia to be let ia these
parts."

"The drove can pe gang two, three, four miles very
pratty wee! indeed," — said the cautious Highlander;
" put what would his honour be axing for the peaets pe
the head, if she waa to tak the park for twa or three

"We won't differ, Sawney, if you let me have six stots
for winterers, iu the way of reason."

"And which peasta wad your honour pe for having ?"

" Why — let me see — the two black — the dun one — yon
iloddy — him with the twisted horn — the brockit — How
much by the head?"

"Ah," said Robin, "your honour is a shudge — a real
shudge— I couldna have set off the pest six peasts petter
mysell, me that ken them as if they were my pairns, puir

" Well, how much per head, Sawney ? " continued Mr.

" It was high mai'kets at Doune and Falkirk," answered

And thus the conversation proceeded, until they had
agreed on the prix juite for the bullocks, the Squire
throwing in the temporary accommodation of the en-
closure for the cattle into the boot, and Bobin making,
as he thought, a very good bargain, provided the grass
van but tolerable. The squire walked his pony alongaide
of the drove, partly to show him the way, and see him
put into possession of the field, and partly to learn the
latest news of the northern markets.

195

WATEELET NOTEtS.

Thej arriyed at the field, and the pastnre seemed ex-
cellent. But what was their surprise when they saw the
bailiff quietly inditciirg the catile of Harry Wakefield
into the grassy Goshen which had just been assigned to
those of Eohin Oig M'Combich by the proprietor him-
Eelfl Squire Ireby aet spurs to his horse, dashed up to
his servant, and learning what had passed between the
pardes, briefly informed the English drover ibat his
btuUff had let the ground without bis authority, and that
he might seek grass for his cattle wherever ho would,
Bince he was to get none there. At the same time be
rebuked his servant severely for having transgressed hia
commands, and ordered bim instantly to assist in ejecting .
the hungry and weary cattle of Harry Wakefield, which
were just beginning to enjoy a meal of unusual plenty,
and to introduce those of his comrade, whom the English
drover now began to consider as a rival.

The feelings which arose in Wakefield's mind vronld
have induced him to resist Mr. Ireby's decision ; bat
every Englishman has a tolerably accurate sense of law
and justice, and John Fleecehumpkin, the bailiff, having
acknowledged that he bod exceeded his commission,
Wakefield saw nothing else for it than to collect bia
hungry and disappointed charge, and drive them on to
seek quarters elsewhere. Bobin Oig saw what had hap-
pened with regret, and hastened to ofier to his English
friend to share with bim the disputed possession. But
Wakefield's pride was severely hurt, and be answered
disdainfully, " Take it all, man — take it all — never make
two bites of a cherry — Ihou canst liilk over the gentry,
1 eye — Out upon you, man — I
dii'ty latchets for leave to bake

and blear a pli
would not kiss any

^

J

Kobin Oig, sorry but not surprised at his comrade's di
pleasure, hastened to entreat his friend fo wait but e
hour till he had. gone to the Squin
payment for the cattle he had sold, and he w
back and help him to drive the cattle i:
lent place of rest, and explain to him the whole mistake
they had both of ihem fellen ioto. But the Englishman
continued indignant : *' Thou hast been selling, hast Ibon ?
Ay, ay — thou is a cunning lad for kenning the hours of
bargaining. G!o to the devil with thyself, for I will ne'er
see thy fause loon's visage again — thou should be ashamed
to look me in the face."

" I am ashamed to look no man in the face," said Robin
Oig, something moved ; " and, moreover, I will look you
in the face this blessed day, if you will bide at the clachan
down yonder."

" Mayhap you had as well keep away," said his com-
rade ; and turning his back on his former friend, he col-
lected his unwilling associates, assisted by the bailiff', who
took some real and some affected interest in seeing Wake-
field accommodated.

After spending some time in negotiating with more
than one of the neighbouring farmers, who could not, or
would not, afford the accommodation desired, Henry
Wakefield at last, and in his necessity, accomplished his
point by means of the landlord of the ale-house at which
Robin Oig and he had agreed to pass the night, when
they first separated from each other. Mine host was con-
tent to let him turn his cattle on a piece of barren moor,
at a price little less than the bailiff" had asked for the dis-
puted enclosure ; and the wretchedness of the pasture, as
well as the price paid for it, were set down as esaggers-
tions of the breach of faith and friendship of his Scottish

cronj. This turn of Wnkefield's passions was eDcouP"
aged b^ tlie bailiff, (who bad his own reaaons for being
o&eoded ag&inst poor Robin, ss having been the uowil-
tiiig cause of his falling into disgrace with his master,) as
well as hy the innkeeper, and two or three chance guests,
who stimulated the drover in his resentmeat a^nat his
quondam associate, — some from tbe ancient grudge against
the Scots, which, when il eiista anywhere, is to be found
lurking in the Border counties, and some from the general
lore of mi;jchief, which characterizes mankind in all ranks
of life, to the honour of Adam's children be it spoken.
Good John Barleycorn also, who always heightens and
exaggerates the prevailing passions, be they angry or
kindly, was not wanting In his offices on this occasion ;
and coDfusioa to false fiiends and bard masters, was
pledged in more than one tankard.

In the meanwhile Mr. Irebj found some amusement in
detaining the northern drover at his ancient hall. He
caused a cold round of beef to be placed before the Scot
in the butler's pantry, together with a foaming tankard of
home-brewed, and look pleasure in seeing the hearty ap-
petite with which these unwonted edibles were difcnseed
by Robia Oig M'Combich. The squire himself lighting
his pipe, compounded between his patrician dignity and
his love of agi'icultural gossip, by walking up and domi
while he conversed with his guest,

" I passed another drove," said the Squire, " with one
of your countrymen behind thera — they were something
less beasls than your drove, doddiea most of them — a big
man was with thera — none of your kilts though, hot a
decent pair of breeches — D'ye know who he may he?"

" Hout ay — that might, could, and would l>e Hughie
UJirriBon — I didna think he could faae peen sae v

i

THE TWO DKOVEKft.

199

He has made a day on ua ; but bis Argylesbirea will have
wearied shanks. How far was he pehind?"

" I think about six or sevea miles," answered the
Squire, " for I passed tbcm at the Chriateabury Crag, and
I overtook you at the Hollan Bush. If his beasts be leg-
weary, he will be may be selling bargains."

" Na, na, Ilughie Morrison is no the man for pargaiua
— ye mp.uu come to some Highland body like Robin Oig
hersell for the like of these — put 1 maun pe wishing you
goot night, and twenty of them let alane ane, and I maun
down to the Claehan to see if the lad Han'y Waokfelt is
out of his humdudgeons yet."

The party at the alehouse were still in full talk, and
the treachery of Robin Oig still the theme of conversa-
tion, when lie supposed culprit entered the apartment.
His airiral, as usually happens in such a case, put an in-
Btant stop to the discussion of which he had furnished the
subject, and he was received by the company assembled
with that chilling silence, which, more than a thousand
jxdamations, tells an intruder that he ts unwelcome.
Surprised and offended, but not appalled by the reception
which he experienced, Robin entered with an undaunted
and even a haughty air, attempted no greeting, as
he was received with none, and placed himself by the
side of the fire, a little apart from a table at which
Harry Wakefield, the bailiff, and two or three other
persons, were seated. The ample Cumbrian kitchen
would have afforded plenty of room, even for a larger
separation.

Robin, thus seated, proceeded to light his pipe, and call
for a pint of twopenny.

" We have no twopence ale," answered Ralph Heskett,
the landlord ; " but as (hou flnd'st thy own tobacco, it's like

SOO WATEIILET irOVEL9.

ihou maj-'st find ihy own liquor too — it'a Ihe wont of thy
country, I wot."

" Shnme, goodman," said the landlady, a blithe bustling
housewife, hiiBtening herself to supply the guest with
liquor — " Thoo knowest well enow what the strange man
wants, and it's Ihy trade to be civil, man. Tbou shouldst
know, that if the Scot likca a. small pot, he pays a sure

Without taking any notice of this nuptial dialogue, the
Highlander took the flagon in his hand, and addressing
the company generally, drank the interesting toast of
" Good Markels," to the party assembled.

" The better liat the wind blew fewer dealers from Iha
north," said one of the farmers, "and fewer Highland
runts to eat up the English meadows."

" Saul of ray pody, put you are wrang there, my
friend," answered Robin, with composure; "it is your fat
Englishmen that eat up our Scots cattle, puir things."

" I wish there was a sommat to eat up their drovers,"
said another; "a plain Englishman canna make bread
within a kenning of them."

" Or an honest servant keep his master's favour, but
they will corae sliding in between him and the Bunshine,™
said the bailiff.

" If these pe jokes," said R(rf)iii Oig, with the eame
composure, " there is ower mony jokes upon one man."

" It is no joke, but downright earnest," said ihe bailiff
"Harkye, Mr. Robin Ogg, or whatever is your name, it's
right we should tell you that we are all of one opinion,
and (hat is, that you, Mr. Robin Ogg, have behaved to
our friend, Mr. Harry Wakefield here, hke a raff and a
blackguard."

" Nae doubt, nae doubt," answered Robin, with {

1 Robin, with grMt»

J!

composoii; ; " and you are n B('t of very pretty judges, for
wbose prains or pehaviour I wad not gie a piadt of
sneeshing. If Mr- Harrj Wnakfelt kena where he is
wranged, he kens where he may he righted,"

" He speaks truth," said Wakefield, who had listened
to what posaed, divided between the offeDee which he had
takeo at Bobin's late behaviour, and the revival of his
hfibitual feelings of regard.

He now arose, and went towards Robin, who got up
from his seat as he approaehed, and heid out his hand>

" That's right, Hari'j— go it — serve him out," resound-
ed on all sides — " tip him the nailer — show him the mill."

" Hold your peace all of you, and be ," said Wake-
field ( and then addressing his comrade, he look him by
the extended Land, with something alike of respect and
defiance. " Bobin," he said, " thou haat used me ill
enough this day ; but if you mean, like a frank fellow, to
shake handii, and take a tussle for love on the sod, why
I'll forgie thee, man, and we shall be better friends than

" And would it not pe petter to pe cood friends without
more of the matter ? " said Kobin ; " we will he much
petter friendships with our panes hale than proken."

Harry Wakefield dropped the hand of bis friend, or
rather threw it from him.

" I did not think I had been keeping company for three
years with a coward."

" Coward pelongs to none of my name," said Rohiu,
wbose eyes began to kindle, but keeping the command of
his temper. " It was no coward's legs or hands, Harry
Waakfelt, that drew you out of the fords of Frew, when
you was drifting ower the plack roek, and every eel in
•Jie river expected his share of you."

WATEKLEY NOVELS.

>ugh, too," said the Englishman,

" And that la true e
fltruck by the appeal.

" Adzooks ! " exclaimed the bailiff — " sure Harry
Wakefield, the nattiest lad at Whitson Trjste, Wooier'
Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Slagsbaw Bank, is not going to
ehow white feather ? Ah, this comes of living ao long
with kilta and bonnets — men forget the use of their
daddies."

"I may teach you, Master Fleecebumpkin, that I have
not loi^t the use of mine," said Wakefield, and then went
on. "This will never do, Robin. We must have a
turn-up, or we shall be the talk of the country side. I'll
be d- ■ d if I hurt tliee — I'll put on the gloves gin thon
like. Come, stand forward like a man."

" To pe peaten like a dog," said Robin ; " is there any
reason ia that? If you think I have done you wrong,
I'll go before your sbudge, though I neither know his law
nor bb language."

A general cry of " No, no — no law, no lawyer ! a belly-
ful and be friends," was echoed by the bystanders.

" But," continued Robin, " if I am to fight, Tve
no skill to fight like a jackanapes, with hands and

"How would you fight then? said his antagonist
" though I am thinking it would be hard to bring you to
the scratch anyhow."

" I would fight with proadswords, and sink point on tba
first plood drawn like a genllemans."

A loud shout of laughter followed the proposal, wbit^
indeed had rather escaped from poor Robin's swelling
heart, than been the diclale of his sober judgment.

" Gentleman, quotha ! " was echoed on all sides, with a
shout of unextinguiahable laughterj "a very pretty

^

THE TWO DROVER8.

gentleman, God wot — Canst get two swords for the
gentlemen to fight witb, Ralph Heskelt?"

" No, but I can send to the armory at Carlisle, and
lend them two forks, lo be mating shift with in

" Tush, man," said another, " the bonny Scots come int
the world with the blue bonnet on their heads, and dirk
and pistol at their belt,"

" Best send post," said Mr. Fleecebumpkin, " to the
Snuire of Corby Castle, to come and stand second to the
t/enllemaii."

la the midst of this torrent of general ridicule, the
Highlander instinctively gi-iped beneath the folds of his

" But it's better not," he said in
" A hundred curses on the swine-eaters, who know neither
decency nor civiiily ! "

'^ Make room, the pack of 7011," he said, advancing to
the door.

But his former friend interposed his sturdy bulk, and
opposed his lenring the honse ; and when Robin Oig
attempted to make his way by force, he hit hira down on
the floor, with as much ease as a boy bowls down a

"A ring, a. ring!" was now shouted, until the dark
rafters, and the hams that hung on them, trembled again,
and the very platters on the &zn£ clattered against each
other. " Well done, Harry," — " Give it hira home,
Harry," — "Take care of him now,~
blood ! "

Such were the exclamations, while the Highlander,
starting from the ground, all his coldness and caulion
List in fi'antic rage, sprung at his antagonist with the fury,

the activity, and the vindictive purpose, of an incensed
tiger-cal. But when could rage encounter science and
temper? Robin Oig again went down in the unequal
co'itest; and as the blow was necessarily a severe one,
he lay motionless on the floor of the kitchen. The land-
lady ran to offer Bome aid, but Mr. Fleeeebumpkin would
not permit her to approach.

"Let him alone," he said, "he will come w within
time, and come up to the scrateh again. He has not got
half bia broth yet."

" He has got all I mean to give him, though," eaid his
, whose heart began to relent lowards his old
"and I would rather by half give the rert to
yourself, Mr. Fleecebumpkia, for you pretend to know a
thing or two, and Hobin had not art enough even to peel
before setting to, but fought with his plaid dangling about
him. — Stand up, Bohin, my man I all hiends now ; and
let me hear the man that will speak a word against you,
or your country, for your sake."

Robin Oig was still under the dominion of hia pas^on,
and eager to renew the onset ; but being withheld on the
one side by the peace-making Dame Hesketi, and on the
other, aware that Wakefield no longer meant to renew
the combat, his fury sunk into gloomy Bullenness.

" Come, come, never grudge so much at il, man," aaid
the brave-spirited Englishman, with the placability of
his country, "shake hands, and we will be better frienda
than ever."

" Friends ! " exclaimed Robin Oig, with strong em-
phasis— "friends! — ^Never. IxKik to yourself, Harry
WaakfelL"

"Then the curse of Cromwell on your proud Scots
Btomach, as the man says in the play, and yo'j may do

TDK TWO DROTEB3. 205

yojji' worst, and be d d ! for one man can say

nothing more to another afler a tuaale, than that he is
Borry for it,"

On these terms the friends parted ; Robin Oig drew
out, in silence, a piece of money, threw it on the table,
and then left the alehouse. But turning at the door, he
shook his hand at Wakefield, pointing with his forefiager
upwards in a manner which might imply either a threat
or a caution. He then disappeared in the moonlight.

Some words passed after his departure, between the
bailiff, who piqued himself on being a little of a bully,
and Harry Wakefield, who, with generous inconsistency,
was now not indisposed to begin a new combat in defence
of Robin Gig's reputation, " although he could not use
his daddies like an Englishman, as it did not come nat-
ural to him." But Dame Heskett prevented tbia second
quarrel from coming to a head by her peremptory inter-
ference. "There should be no more fighting in her
house," she said; "there had been too much already, —
And you, Mr. Wakefield, may live to learn," she added,
" what it is lo make a deadly enemy out of a good friend."

" Pshaw, dame ! Robin Oig is an honest fellow, and
will never keep malice."

" Do not trust lo that — you do not know the dour
temper of the Scots, though you have dealt with ihem bo
of^en. I have a right to know them, my mother being a
ScoL"

" And so is well seen on her daughter," said Ralpu
Heakett/

This nuptial sarcasm gave the discourse another turn ;
fi-esh customers entered the tap-room or kitchen, and
others left it. The conversation turned on the expected
markets, and the report of prices from different pans

206

■WiWBULET KOVELS.

boihof Scoiland and England — treaties were eommsDced,
and Ilairy Wakefield was lucky enough lo find a cLap
for a part of liis drove, and at a very considerable profit;
an event of conaequence more than sufficient to blot out
all remembrances of the unpleasant scuffle in the earlier
p;irt of the day. But there remained one partj from
whose mind that recollection could not have been wiped
away by the possession of every head of cattle betwixt
Esk and Eden.

This vvas Hohin Oig M'Corabicb.— " That I should
have had no weapon," he said, " and for the first time in
my life !— Blighted be the tongue that bids the High-
lander part with the dirk — the dirk — ha! the Engli^
blood !— My Muhme'B word — when did her word fall to
the ground?"

The recollection of the fatal prophecy confirmed the
deadly intention which instantly sprang up in his mind.

"Ua! Morrison cannot he many miles behind; and if
it were a hundred, what then ? "

His impetuous spirit had now a fixed purpose and
motive of action, and he turned the light foot of his
counliy towards the wilds, through which he knew, by
Mr. Ireby's report, that Morrison was advancing. His
mind was wholly engrossed hy the sense of injury — in-
jury sustained from a friend ; and hy the desire of ven-
geance on one whom he now accounted his most bitter
enemy. The treasured ideas of self-importance and
self-opinion — of ideal birth and quahty, had become more
precious to him, (like the hoard to the miser,) because he
could only enjoy them in secret But tliat hoard v/oh
pillaged, the idols which he had secretly worehipped 1
been desecrated and profuned. Insulted, abused,
beaten, he was no longer worlby, in his own opiaioKr^

ipped had
used, and J
piaiiWrai^^

THE TWO DKOVEK3.

207

the name he bore, or the liaeage which he belonged lo —
nothing was left to him — notliing but revenge; and, na
the reflection added a galling spur to every step, he
determined it should be as sudden and dgnol as the
offence.

When Bobin Oig left the door of the alehouse, seven
or eight English miles at least lay betwixt Morrison and
him. The advance of the former was slow, limited by
the sluggish pace of his cattle ; the last left behind hiBi
Btubble-field ajid hedge-row, crag and dark heath, ail glit-
tering with frost-rime in the broad November moonlight,
at the rate of six miles an hour. And now the distant
lowing of Morrison's cattle is heard ; and now ihey aro
seen creeping like moles in size and slowness of motion
on the broad face of the moor; and now he meets them
— passes them, and stops their conductor.

"May good belide us," said the Soulhlunder — "la this
you, Robin M'Combich, or your wraith?"

"It t! Eobin Oig M'Combich," answered the High-
lander, "and it is not. — But never mind that, put pe
giving me the skene-dhu."

" What 1 you ai-e for back to the Highlands — Tiie
devil ! — Have you selt all off before the fair ? This beats
all for quick markets ! "

" I have not sold— I am not going north — May pe I
will never go north again. — Give me pack my dirk,
Hugh Morrison, or there will pe words petween us."

" Indeed, Eobin, I'll be better advised before I gie it
back lo you — it is a wanchancy weapon in a Higl land-
man's band, and I am thinking you will be about some
barns-breaking."

" Prutl, trutt ! let me have my weapon," smd Bobin
Oig, impatiently.

203 WAVERLKV NOVELS.

" Ilooly iind fniily," said his well-tne-aiiing friend.
"I'll tell you what will do better than tlieae dirking
doings — Ye ken Highlander, and Lowiander, and Border-
men, are a' ae man's bairns when you are over the Scots
djke. See, tbe Eskdale fullanls, and fighting Charlie
of Liddesdale, and the Lofkerby lads, and the four Dan-
dier of Lustnjther, and a vcfaeen tnair gray plaids, an
coiuing up behind, and if you are wranged, there is the
hand of a Manly Morrison, we'll see you righted, if Car-
lisle and Stanwis: baith took up the fend."

" To leil you the truth," said Robin Oig, desirons of
eluding rtie suspicions of his friend, " I have enlisted wiA
a party of the Black Watch, and must march off to-
DioiTow morning."

" Enlisted ! Were you mad or drunk ?— Too must buy
yourself off — I can lend you twenty notes, and twenty to
that, if the drove sell."

" I thank you — thanV ye, Hughie ; bat I go with good
will the gale that I am going, — po the dirk — (he dirk ! "

" There it is for you then, since less wunna serve. But
think on what I was saying. — "Waea me, it will be eair
news in the braes of Balqiiidder, that Robin Oig M'Com-
bich should have run an ill gate, and ta'en on,"

" III news in Balquidder, indeed!" echoed poor Bobin.
" But Cot speed yon, Hughie, and send you good marcats.
Ye winna meet with Robin Oig again, either at tryste or

So saying, he shook hastily the hand of his acqiiBinl-
aiice, and set out in the direction from whioh he litid
advanced, with the spirit of his former pace.

" There is something wrang with the lad," muttered
the Morrison to himself; ''but we'll maybe see bettei

t (he n

^

But long ere the morning dawned, the catastrophe of
oar tale had taken place. It was two houra after ihe
affray had happened, and it was totally forgotten by al-
most every one, when Kobin Oig returned to Heskett'a
inn. The place was filled at once by various sorts of
men, and with noises corresponding lo their character.
Thcie were the grave low sounds of men engaged in
busy traffic, with the laugh, the song, and the riotous jest
of those who had nothing to do but to enjoy themselves.
Among the lust was Harry Wakefield, who, amidst a
grinning group of smoct-frocbs, hobnailed shoes, and jolly
En^ish physiognomies, was strolling fortli the dd ditty,

when he was interrupted, by a welI-kno(vn voice saying
in a high and stern lone, marked by the sharp Highland
accent, '* Harry Waakfelt — if you be a man, stand up ! "

"What is the matter? — what is it?" the goesta de-
manded of each other.

" It is only a d — d Scotsman," said Fieecehumpkin,
who was by this time very drunk, " whom Harry Wake-
field helped to his broth to-day, who is now come to
have hia cauM kail het again."

" Harry Waakfelt," repeated the same ominous sum-
mons, " stand up, if you be a man ! "

There is something in the tone of deep and concentrated
passion, which attracts attention and imposes awe, even
by tho very sound. The guests shrunk back on every
fiide, and gazed at the Highlander as he stood in the
middle of them, bis brows bent, and liis features rigid
with resolution.

" I wiH stand Tip with all my heart, Hobin, my boy.

210

WATEBLET HOTELS.

bnt k shall be to shake hands with joa, and driok ilown
all unkindiiesa. It is not ihe fault of your heart, mail,
that you don't know how to clench your hands."

By tliia time he stood opposite to his antagonist ; his
Open and unsuspecting look strangely contrasted, with the
stern purpose, which gleamed wild, dark, and v-indiclive
in the eyes of the Highlander.

"'Tia not thy fault, man, that, not having the luckl^.
be an Englishman, thou canst not £ght more tliaa j
Bchool-girl."

" I can fight," answered Robin Oig sternly, but c
" and you shall know it. You, Harry Waakfelt, showi
me to-day how the Saxon churls fight — I show you e
how the Highland Dunnie-wassel fights."

He seconded the word with the action, and plui _
the dagger, which he suddenly displayed, into the broad
breast of the English yeoman, with such fatal certainty
and force, that the hiit made a hollow sound against the
breast-bone, and the double-edged point spht the vei-y
heart of his victim. Harry Wakefield fell and expired
with a single groan. His assassin next seized the bailiff
by the collar, and offered the bloody poniard to his throat,
whilst dread and surprise rendered the man incapable of
defence.

" It were very just to lay you beside him," 1
" but the blood of a base pick-thank shall never
my father's dirk, with that of a brave man." ■

As he spoke, he cast the man from him with so much
foi-ce that he fell on the floor, while Robin, with his other
hand, threw the fatal weapon into the blazing turf-fire.

" There," he said, " take me who likes — and 1
cleanse blood if it can."

The pause of astonishment still continuing, S

. — and let S^^^^H
ng, Bobin Oi^^^|

j]

inE TWO DaOTEBS.

a^ked for a peace-officer, and a constable havijig stepped
oui, lie surrendered himself to bis custody.

"A bloody night's work you have made of it," said the
constable.

" Tour own fault," said the Highlander. " Had you
kept his hands off me twa hours since, he would have
been now as well and merry as he was twa minutes since."

" It must be sorely answered," said the peace-officer.

" Never you mind that — death pays all debts; it will
pay that too."

The hori'or of the bystanders began now to give way
to indignation ; and the sight of a. favourite companion
murdered in the midst of them, the provocation being, in
their opinion, so utterly inadequate to the excess of ven-
geance, might have induced them to kill the perpetrator
of the deed even upon the very spot. The constable, how-
ever, did hid duty on thia occasion, and with the assistance
of some of the more reasonable persons present, procured
horses to guard the prisoner to Carlisle, to abide hia doom
at the nest assizes. Wiiile the escort was preparing, iha
prisoner neilher espressed the least interest nor attempted
the slightest reply- Only, before he was carried from the
fatal apartment, he desired to look at the dead body,
which, I'aised from the floor, bad been deposited npon the
large table, (at the head of which Harry Wakefield had
presided, but a few minutes before, full of life, vigour, and
animation,) until the surgeons should examine the mortal
wound. The face of the corpse was decently covered
witli a napkin. To tije surprise and hori'or of the by-
standers, which displayed itself in a general Ah / drawn
through clenched teelli and half-shut lips, Robin Oig re-
moved the cloth, and gazed with a mournful but steady
eye on tlie lifeless visage, which hud been so lately ani-

IVAVERLET [

maled, that the sniile of good-humoured confidence in his
own strength, of conciliation at once, and contempt to-
wards his eneraj, still curled bis lip. While those
present expected that the wound, which lind so lately
hooded the apartment with gore, would send forth ireBh
streams at the touch of lite homicide, Robin Oig replaced
the covering, with the brief exclamation — " lie was a

My story is nearly ended. The unfortunate High-
lander stood his trial at Carlisle. I was myself present,
and as a young Scottish lawyer, or barrister at least, and
reputed a man of some q^uality, the politeness of the
Sheriff of Cumberland offered me a place on the bench.
The facts of the case were proved in the manner I have
related tbera ; and whatever might be at first the pre-
judice of the audience against a crime so un-English as
that of assassination from revenge, yet when the rooted
national prejudices of tiie prisoner had been explained,
which made him consider himself as stained with indelible
dishonour, when subjected to personal violence; wben his
previous patience, moderation, and endurance, were eon-
6idered, the generosity of the English' audience was in-
clined to regard his crime as tie wayward aberration of
a false idea of honour rather than as flowing from a heart
naturally savage, or perverted by habitual vice. I shall
never forget the chaise of the venerable Judge to the
jury, although not at that time liable to be much afTected
either by that which was eloquent or pathetic

" We have bad," be said, " in the previous part of our
duty," (alluding to some former trials,) "to discuss crimes
which infer disgust and abhorrence, while they call down
the well-merited vengeance of the law. It is now our
atill more melancholy task to apply its salutary though

THK TWO DR0TKE9. 213

serere enactments lo a case of a very singular character,
in which the crime (for a crime it is, and a deep one)
arose less out of t)ie malevolence of the heart, than the
error of the undersianding — less from any idea of com-
mitting wrong, than from an unhnppily perverted notion
of that which is right. Here we have two men, highly
esteemed, it hus been staled, in their rank of life, and
attached, it seems, to each other as friends, one of whose
lives has been already sacrificed to a punctilio, and the
other is about to prove the vengeance of the ofiended
laws ; and yet both may claim our commiseration at least,
as men acting in ignorance of each other's national pre-
judices, and unhappily misguided rather than voluntarily
erring from tbe path of right conduct.

" In the original cause of the misunderstanding, we
must in justice give the right to the prisoner at the bar.
He had acquired possession of the enclosure, which was
the object of competition, by n legal contract with the
proprietor, Mr. Ireby; and yet, when accosted with re-
proaches undeserved in themselves, and galling doubtless
to a temper at least sufficiently susceptible of passion, he
offered notwithstanding to yield up half his acquisition,
for the sake of peace and good neighbourhood, and hia
amicable proposal was rejected with scorn. Then follows
the scene at Mr. Heskett the publican's, and you will
observe how the stranger was treated by the deceased,
and, I am sorry to observe, by those around, who seem
to have urged him in a manner which was aggravating in
the highest degree. While he asked for peace and for
composition, and offered submission to a magistrate, or to
a mutual arbiter, the prisoner was insulted by a whole
company, who seem on this occasion to have forgotten (he
national maxim of ' fair play ; ' and while attempting to

214 WATEHLET KOVEta.

escape from the place in peace, he was iotercepted,
down, and beaten to the efiuaioD of bis bluori.

" Gentlemen of the Jury, it was with some impatience
that I heard my learned brother, who opened the case for
the crown, give an unfavourable turn to the prisoner's
conduct on this occasion. He said tbe prisoner was afraid
to encounter his antagoiiiBt in fair fight, or to submit to
the laws of the ring ; and that therefore, like a cowardly
Italian, he had recourse to his fatal stiletto, to murder the
man whom he dared not meet in maiilj encounter. I
ohaei'ved the prisoner shrink from this part of the accusa-
tion with tbe abhorrence nalui-al to a brave man ; and as
I would wish to make my words impressive, when I point
his real crime, I must secure his opinion of my impar-
tiality, by rebutting every thing that seems to me a false
accusation. There can he no doubt that the prisoner v.
man of resolution— too much resolution — I wish to Hea-
ven that he had less, or rather that he had bad a bel
education to regulate it.

" Gentlemen, as to the laws my brother talks of,
may be known in the Bull-ring, or the Bear-gardf
the Cockpit, but they are not known here. Or, if they
should he so far admitted as furnishing a species of proof
that no malice was intended in this sort of combat, from
which fatal accidents do sometimes arise, it can only be so
admitted when both parties are in pari casu, equally ac-
quainted with, and equally willing to refer themselves to,
that Hpecies of arbitrament. But will it be contended that
a man of superior rank and education is to be subjected,
or is ohliged to subject himself, to this coarse and brutal
Btrile, perhaps in opposition to a younger, stronger, or
more skilful opponent? Certainly even the pugilistic
code, if founded upon the fair play of Merry Old Eng-

Hea-^^

l^nr^H

THE TWO DEOVEKS.

215

land, as mj brolher alleges it to be, can contain nothing
so preposterous. And gentlemen of the jury, if the laws
would support an English gentleman, wearing, we will
suppose, his sword, in defending himself by force against
a violent personal aggression of the nature offered to this
prisoner, they will not lesa protect a foreigner and a
stranger, involved in the same unpleasing circumstances.
If,therdbre, gentlemen of the jury, when thus pressed by a
vis major, the object of obloquy to a whole company, and
of direct violence from one at least, and, as he might rea-
sonably apprehend, from more, the panel had produced
the weapon which his counlrymen, aa we are informed,
generally carry about their persons, and the same unhappy
circumstance had ensued which you have heard detailed
in evidence, I could not in my conscience have asked from,
you a verdict of murder. The prisoner's personal defence
might, indeed, even in that case, have gone more or leas
beyond the Moderamen inculpatcB tulelte, spoken of by
lawyers, but the punishment incurred would have been
that of manslaughter, not of murder. I beg leave to add,
that I should have thought this milder species of charge
was demanded in the case supposed, notwithstanding the
Etalute of Jamea I. cap. 8, which lakes the case of slaugh-
ter by stabbing with a short weapon, even without malice
prepense, out of the benefit of clergy. For \his statute
of slabbing, as it is termed, arose out of a temporary
cause ; and aa the real guilt is the same, wliether the
slaughter bo comraitttd by the dagger, or by sword or
pistol, the benignity of the modem law places them all on
(he same, or nearly the same footbg.

" But, gentlemen of the jury, the pinch of the case lias
in the interval of two hours interposed betwixt the recep-
tion of the injury and the fatal retaliation. In the heat of

WAVEKLET HOTEL B.

sflray and chaude melee, law, compassionating tbe infinni-
ties of humanity, makes allowance for the passions whicb
rule such a slormy moment — for the sense of present pain,
for tie apprehension of farther injury, for the difficulty of
ascertaining with due accuracy the precise degree of vio-
lence which is necessary to protect the pei-son of the
individual, without annoying or injuring the assailant
more than is absolutely requisite. But the time neces-
sary to walk twelve miles, however speedily performed,
was an interval sufficient for the prisoner to have recol-
lected himself"; and the violence with which he carried
his purpose info effect, with so many circumstances of
deliberate determination, could neither be induced by the
passion of anger, nor that of fear. It was the purpose
and the act of predetermined revenge, for which law
neither can, will, nor ought to have sympathy or allow-
ance.

" It ia true, we may repeat to ourselves, in nUeviatJon
of this poor man's unhappy action, that his case is a very
peculiar one. The country which he inhabits, was, in the
days of many now alive, inaccessible to the laws, not only
of England, which have not even yet penetrated thither,
but to those to which our neighbours of Scotland are sub-
jected, and which must be supposed to be^ and no doubt
actually are, founded upon the general principles of jus-
tice and equity which pervade every civilized country.
A.mongsl their mountains, as among the North American
Indians, the various tribes were wont to make war npon
each other, so that each man was obliged to go armed for
his own protection. These men, from the ideas whicb
they entertained of tlieir own descent and of their own
consequence, regarded themselves as so many cavaliers
or min-at-arras, rather than as the peasantry of a p

ipCM^

THE TWO DROVEBS.

ful country. Those laws of the ring, as my brother
terms tliem, were unknown to the race of warlike moun-
taineers! that decision of quarrels hy no other weapons
than those which nature has given every man, m^st to
them have seemed as vulgar and as preposterous as to the
Noblesse of France. Revenge, on the other hand, must
Lave been as familiar to thi-ir habits of society as to those
of the Cherokeea or Moliawks. It is, indeed, as de-
Bciibed by Bacon, at bottom a kind of wild untutored
justice; for the fear of retaliation must withhold the
hands of the oppressor where there is do regular law to
check daring violence. But though all this may be
granted, and though we mny allow that, such haviug b^en
the case of the Highlands in the days of the prisoner's
fathers, many of the opinions and eentiments must still
conlinue to influence the present generation, it cannot, and
ought not, even in this most painful case, to alter the ad-
ministration of the law, either in your hands, gentlemen
of the jury, or in mine. The first object of civilisation is
to place the general protection of the law, equally admin-
istered, in the room of that wild justice, which every
man cut and carved for himself, according to the length
of his sword and the strength of his arm. The law says to
the subjects, with a voice only inferior to that of the
Deity, ' Vengeance is mine.' The instant that there is
time for passion to cool, and reason to interpose, an in-
jured party must become aware, that the law assumes the
exclusive cognizance of the right and wrong betwixt Ihe
parlies, and opposes her inviolable buckler to every at-
tempt of the private party to right himself. I repeat,
that this unhappy man ought personally to be the object
rather of our pity than our abhorrence, for he failed in
his ignorance, and from mistaken notions of honour. But

irA.rEItLET KOTSLB.

his crime is not the less Ihat of murder, gentleincn, and
in your high and imporlant office, it is jour duly so to
find. Englishmen have iheir angry passions as well as
Seots^ and should this man'a action remain unpunished,
you may unsheath, under yarious pretences, a thousand
daggers betwixt the Land's-end and llie Orkneys."

The venerable Judge thus ended what, to judge by his J
apparent emotion, and by the tears which filled his eyes, I
was really a painfnl t.iak. Tlie jury, according to bis |
instructions, brought in a verdict of Guilty; and Robin I
Oig M'Combich, aliai M'Gregor, was sentenced to death, J
and leA: for execution, which took place accordingly. He j
met his fate witb great firmness, and acknowledged the I
justice of his senlence. But he repelled indignantly the I
observations of those who accused him of attacking an j
unarmed man. " I give a life for the life I took," he j
said, " and what can I do more ?

RoBEnT DoNH's Poems.—

NOTE.
I cannot disniiEs this etorf wiChont rest-
ing attention for r. moment on tha light which has tieen thrown on tha
character cf tlie Highland Drover since tha liras of its first appear-
ance, by the acoonnt of it drover poet, by nama fiobert Mackny, or,
OB ho was commonly called, Eob Donn, i'. e., brown Robert, imd cer-
tain specimens of bis talents, published in the flOth Nnmber of tha
Quarterly Raview. The pictnre which that paper gives of the bablti
and feelings of a class of persons with which the general reader would
he apt to associate no ideas bnC those of wild auperstltion and ruds
inannera, is in the highest dogrHa interesting; and I cannot resist tlie
temptation ofqnating ttro of the songs of this hitherto unheanl-of poet
of hamblB life. They are thna introdnoed by the reviewer: —

" Upon one occasion, it seems, Rob's attendance npon hi
Battle business detained him a whole year from home, and at his ra-

k

d that a bir m

m his ttoth had been

w

1

^^^^M

m

THE TWO DROVERS.

2,s J

of yore

, hud

lost sight of her vows, md wiiFi on Ihe evB of beii

ried to

ariv

al, (a carpenter by trade,) who had profited by thi

J young

drovcr'i

lence. The foUowmg Boiig.woa composed during

arieep.

leas night, ii

1 the neighbourhood of Crieff, in Perthshire, and the homa

•icknes

awh

ich it eipresses appears to b« ahnost as mooh that of the

ax of the loving swnin.

■E«yi,™s(Nd,y<fi<njy,

And my Ihanehla Tnovt loilA il.

Mare pleuiLDt were It to he wlUi Ui«

InthnUttteeieeofcl™,

Thmi to b« connUng of dnuM

In the encloanies of Creitt.

Eaiyi,msh.d,t,:.

■ QriKt i. n.7 Mt»m o( Uio nuldon.

TowErm whKB dwelling the north iriai blowii

She Is eTcr chmrful, sporliw, kindly,

Without fOlly, witbont noil;, without ;ride.

I ihould aod piotKlloTi, wlien tber enrrouulted me moa

tolowly,

Eajs;i.nff6«rf, tc.

• Oh thr the d«r ftr turning mj ftce homewud.

That 1 may see tbe miidon at bnuty :—

Joyful will it bs lo mo to be wIUi thee,

Fair gtrl with the long heiyy loofci !

Are Ihe brindled rock and the Hdge :

Dow ewest M ereniiig to be dragging (he alila deei

Downwarda along tho piper'e calro :

Kniy II my bid, Jc.

' Great la my esteem Ibr the maiden

iflild

Late yet ngula will she linger lo that foil,

Long after the kins are uaenibleil.

It >« I mywlf who hs-u taken no illlike lo thee.

It li tot the thoDght of thee thU ileep aim from me.

Great la tho profit to ma of thy parting klis !

■

1

tajyi.myS.d,*..

L.

J

Oh for Ih* nd stimknl BHnm oT ttaa nek,

Cbaap woold 1w my bed to be th

" The rollowing describes Rob's feelings on the first dLsooveiy of Ut '

dBTOsers infidelity. The ai

h these pieces are Ilia omi, and.

'Ita

LTemd the fold, end upinull

among tbe 1

:neB—

EMh

pn™, br Biul BBsr, wherein ]

nsilulenijloTe.

Whom

, I loolioil down ftom [he ereg,
with hiJ bride,

»nd beheld

thofelr-halredetimL

IwUl

led that I hul Dcrer nrtdled

the eled or

Euth

things Eimi I'nlo ni/ luarl as

." g^ing dovm.

Apoin ofiehiA I:Aall «osr bt rk

r, «i>ial amanh mc u IcU itt

• Since It biith been heard that tbe

etLrpontn'b

My.l

eep la dJitorb»d— bnay Is fboTlshnfM with

in me Bt midnight.

Ttaek

iDdnese Ihat hu bean belwet

in UJ,— 1 cl

nnot ibike on Out

'llov-beired daD;ht4r d Dansld, inrelj, t]

mell.^ng

umnybi ^

not ho» It [■
itnngth! I

1

ite thee,

(Ten tlmi

aiht

owirda me

thonhutbeco

1 is mwt 1

mgry™!

mago, -il

. tlaUilj Into IE

thsClon
loa. Uarl

•"ff,

yetpreTiU

lUuUiat

.rlq/ls«a.o

Bff.'

" Rude aod bald na Iheso things appeiLr In a verbal traDjilO'tion, and
rongli OB thsy might posaibly appaor, oven were tha originals intelll- •
gible, we confess we are disposed to think thoy wonld of themsclvM
justify Dr. Mackey {tbeir Editor) in placing this faerdsmao-lovet
ftmong tha tme cons of tong," — QaarUrlii Benem, No. XC, Ada

MY AUNT MAEGAEETS MffiROR.

ZNTEODCOTIOS — (1831.)

The species of publication wliicli Iibs come to be geo-
erallj known bj the title of Annual, being a miscellany
of prose and verse, equipped with numerous engravings,
and put forth every year about Christmas, had flourished
for a long while in Germany, before it was imitated in
thia country by an enterprising bookseller, a German by
birlli, Mr. Ackermann. The rapid success of his work,
as is the custom of the tinje, gave birth to a host of rivals,
and, among others, to an Annual styled The Keepsake,
the first volume of.which appeared in 1828, and attracted
much notice, chiefly in consequence of the very uncom-
mon splendour of its iUustralive accompaniments. The
expenditure which the spirited proprietors lavished on
this magnificent volume, is understood to have been not
less than from ten to twelve thousand pounds sterling !

Various gentlemen, of such literary reputation that any
one might think it an honour to be associated with them,
had been announced as contributors to this Annual, before
application was made to me to assist in it ; and I accord-
ingly placed with much pleasure at the Editor's disposal

INTnODDCTION TO SIY JlVST MARCARET'S HIBBOH. 523

a fflw fragments, originally designed to have been worked
inlo the Chronicles of tlie Canongate, besides a MS.
Drama, the long-neglected performance of my youthful
days,— The House of Aspen.

The Keepsake for 1828 included, however, only three
of tliese little prose tales — of which the first in order was
that entitled "My Aunt Margaret'j Mirror." Byway
of introduction to thia, when now included in a general
collection of my lucubrations, I have only to say that it is
a mere tranacripl, or at least with very little embellish-
ment, of a 3(017 that I remembered being struck with in
my childhood, when told at the fireside by a lady of emi-
nent virtues, and no inconsiderable share of talent, one
of the ancient and honourable house of Swinton. She
' was a kind relation of my own, and met her death in a
manner so shocking, being killed in a fit of insanity by a
female attendant who had been attached to her person for
half a lifetime, that I cannot now recall her memory, child
as I was when the catastrophe occurred, without a painful
reawakening of perhaps (he first images of horror that
the scenes of real life stamped on my mind.

This good spinster had in her composition a strong vein
of the superstitious, and was pleased, among other fancies,
(o read aloae in her chamber by a taper fixed in a candle-
stick which she had had formed out of a human skull. One
night, this strange piece of furniture acquired suddenly
the power of locomotion, and, after performing some odd
circles on her chimney-piece, fairly leaped on the floor,
and continued to roll about the apartment. Mrs. Swin-
ton calmly proceeded to the adjoining room for another
light, and had the satisfaction to penetrate the mystery on
the spot Rats abounded in the ancient building she in-
habited, and one of these had managed to ensconce itaelf

224 TTAVERLET NOVilLS.

within her favourite memento mori. Though thus en-
dowed with a more than feminine share of nerve, she
entertained largely that belief in supematurals, which in
those times was not considered as sitting ungracefully cm
the grave and aged of her condition ; and the story of the
Magic Mirror was one for which she vouched with par-
ticular confidence, ^leging indeed that one of her own
family had been an eye-witness of the incidents recorded

in it.

** I tell the tale as it was told to me.**

Stories enow of much the same cast will present them-
selves to the recollection of such of my readers as have
ever dabbled in a species of lore to which I certainly
gave more hours, at one period of my life, than I should
gain any credit by confessing. •

AugutL, 1881.

L

MT AUNT MABGABET'S MIEKOK.

When Faoor pbijB h<

Whoa the broad, palpable, and m

ot, BHDi! dUaolrsd,

Thin Bll the giase nsllUea of Ota."

Mr Aunt Margahet was one of tbat respected sis-
terhood, upon whom devolve all the trouble and solicitude
incidentiil to the possession of children, excepting only
that which attends their entrance into the world. "We
were a large family, of very different dispositions and
coaBtitntions. Some were dull and peevish — they were
sent to Aunt Margaret to be amused; some were rude,
romping, and boisterous — they were sent to Aunt Mar-
garet to be kept quiet, or rather that their noise might be
removed out of hearing: those who were indisposed were
sent with the prospect of being nursed — those who were
stubborn, with the hope of their being subdued by the
kindness of Aunt Margaret's discipline ; in short, she had
all the various duties of a mother, without the credit mi

22S WAVEKLEr I

dignity of the niatenial cliaracler. The busy scene of
her various cares is now over — of the invalids and the
robust, the kind and the rough, the peevish and pleased
children, who threnged her little parlour from moming to
night, not one now remains alive but myself; who, afflicted
by early infirmity, was one of the most delieate of her
nurslings, yet, nevertheless, have outlived them alL

It is still ray custom, and shall be so while I have the
nse of my limbs, to visit my I'espected relation at leasl
three times a-week. Her abode is about half a mile
from the suburbs of the town in which I reside ; and is
accessible, not only by the high-road, from which it stands
at some distance, but by means of a greensward footpath
leading through some pretty meadows. I have so little
left, to torment me in life, that it is one of my greatest
vexations to know that aeveral of these sequestered fields
have been devoted as sites for building. In that which b
nearest the town, wheelbarrows have been at work for
several weeks in such numbers, that, I verily believe, its
whole surface, to the depth of at least eighteen inches,
was mounted in these monotrochs at the same moment,
and in the act of being transported from one place to
another. Huge triangular piles of planks are also reared
in diScreut parts of the devoted messuage ; and a little
group of trees, that still grace the eastern end, which
rises in a gentle ascent, have just received warning to
quit, expressed by a daub of white paint, and are to give
place to a curious gi'ove of chimneys.

It would, perhaps, hurt others in my situation to reflect
that this little range of pasturage once belonged to my
father, (whose family was of some consideration in the
world,) and was sold by patches to remedy distresses ia
which he involved himself in an attempt by comtai

ises u I

227

adventure to redeem his dimini^ihed fortune. Wliile tbe
building scheme was in full operation, this circ urns lance
was often pointed out to rae by the class of friends who
are anxious that no part of your misfortunes ebould es-
cape your observation. " Such pasture-ground ! — ^lying
at the very town's end — in turnips and potatoes, the parka
would bring £20 per acre, and if leased for building —
0, it was a gold mine ! — And all sold for an old song out
of the ancient possessor's hands I " My comforters can-
not bring me to repine much on this subject. If I could
be allowed to look back on the past without interruption,
1 could willingly give up the enjoyment of present in-
come, and the hope of future profit, to those who have
purchased what my father sold. I regret the alteration
of the ground only because it destroys associations, and I
would more willingly (I think) see tbe Earl's Closes in
the hands of strangers, retaining iheir sylvan appearance,
than know them ibr my own, if lorn up by agriculture,
or covered with buildings. Mine are the sensations of
poor Logan : —

"Tho horrid plangh has niaod the green
Where yat n child I straj'd;
The axe tias Tell'd the hnntliorn ecreeo.
The schoolboy's Bummer shade."

I hope, however, the threatened deva'^tation will not be
consummaled in my day. Although the adventurouB
spirit of limes short while since passed gave rise to the
undertaking, I have been encouraged to think, that the
subsequent changes have so far damped the spirit of
speculation, that the rest of the woodland footpath leading
to Aunt Margaret's retreat will be left undisturbed for
her time and mine. I am interested in this, for every
step of ibe way, after I have passed through the green

L

238 ■ TPAVERLET NOVELS.

alceady mentioned, has for me something of eai-Iy remeni"
bnuice : — There is the slile at which 1 can recollect a
cross chiM's-niaid upbraiding me with my infirmity, as
she lifted me coarsely and carelessly orer the flinty steps,
which my brothers ti-aversed with shout and bound. I
remember the suppressed bitteniess of the moment, atu^
conscious of my own inferiority, the feeling of envy with
which I regfli-ded the easy movements and elastic steps
of mj more happily formed brethren. Alas I these
goodly barks have all perished on life's wide ocean, and
only that which seemed so little seaworthy, as the naval
phrase goes, has readied the port when the tempest is
over. Then there is the pool, where, raanceuvring our
Utile navy, constructed out of the broad water-flags, my
elder hrolher fell in, and was scarce saved from the
watery element to die under Nelson's banner. There is
the hazel copse also, in which my brother Henry used io
gather nuts, thinking little that he was to die in an Indian
jungle in quest of rupees.

Thei-e is so much more of remembrance about the little
waik, that — as I stop, rest on my crutch-headed cane, and
look round with that species of comparison between the
thing 1 was and that which I now am — it almost induces
me to doubt my own identity ; until I find myself in face
of the honeysuckle porch of Aunt Margaret's dwelling
with its irregularity of front, and its odd projecting lat-
ticed windows; whei-e the workmen seem to have made
a study that no one of them should resemble another, in
form, size, or in the old-fashioned stone entablature and
labels which adorn them. This tenement, once ihe ma-
nor bouse of Earl's Closes, we still retain a slight hold
upon ; for, in some family arrangements, it had been
settled upon Aunt Margaret during the term of her 1

of her U^^H

MT AUNT JIAKGABET'S MIREOK.

229

Upon this frail tenure depends, in a great measure, the last
shndow of the family of Bothwell of Earl'a Closes, and
their last slight connexion with their paternal inheritance.
The only repreaentalive will then be an infirm old man,
moving not unwillingly to the grave, which has devoured
all that were dear to his affections.

Wlien I have indulged such thoughts for a minute or
two, I enter the mansion, which is said to have been the
gatehouse only of the original building, and find one
being on whom time seems to have made little imprea-
sion ; for the Aunt Margaret of to-day beara the same
proportional age to the Aunt Margaret of my early youth,
that the boy of ten years old does to the man of (by'r
Lady !) some fifty-six years. The old lady's invariable
costume has doubtless some share in confirming one in
the opinion, that time has stood still with Aunt Margaret.

The brown or chocolate -colon red silk gown, with rufflea
of the same stuff at the elbow, within which are others
of Mechlin lace — the black silk gloves, or mitts, the white
hair combed back upon a roll, and the cap of spotless
cambric, which closes around the venerable countenance,
as they were not the costume of 1780, so neither were
they that of 1826 ; they are altogether a style peculiar
to the individual Aunt Margaret. There she still sits, as
Ehe sat thirty years since, with her wheel or the stocking,
which she works by the fire in winter, and by the window
in summer ; or, perhaps, venturing as far as the porch in
an unusually fine summer evening. Her frame, like
some well-constructed piece of mechanics, still performs
the operations for which it had seemed destined ; going
its round with an activity which is gradually diminished,
yet indicating no probability that it will soon come to u
period.

830 TTATERI.ET HOVELS.

The solicitude and affection which had made Aunt
Murgarct lliG willing slave to the inflictions of a. w,faola
nursery, have now for their object the health and comfort
of one old and infirm man, the last remaining relative of
her family, and the only one who can still find interest in
the traditional etores which she hoards, as some miser
hides the gold which he desires that no one should enjo^ I
after his death.

My conver^aljon with Aunt Margaret generally relates I
little either to the present or to the future : for the passing 1
da} we pobse~5 as much as we require, and we n^tbflf |
(tf ub wish for moie ; and for that which is to follow "v
have on this side of the grave neither hopes, nor fear
nor an\ioty We therefore naturally look back to the 1
past ; and forget the present fallen fortunes and declined I
importance of our family, in recalling the hours when lt|
■was wealthy and prosperous.

With this slight introduction, the reader will koow oi
much of Aunt Margaret and her nephew as is necessa^V
to comprehend the following conversation and narraliTCk I

Last week, when, late in a summer evening, I went tol
call on the old lady tfl whom my reader is now intra- I
duced, I was received by her with all her usual afFectionI
and benignity ; while, at the same time, she seemed a
stnicted and disposed to silence. I asked her the reaso
" They have been clearing out the old chapel," she saidU
" John Clayhiidgeons having, it seems, discovered tha|l
the stuff within— being, I suppose, the remains of our
ancestors — was excellent for top-dressing the meadows."

Here I started up with more alacrity than I have dis-
played Ibr some years ; but sat down while my aunt
added, laying her hand upon my sleeve, " The chapel
has been long considered as common ground, my dear

3IT AUNT MABGABETS HIBKOE.

231

Biid used for a penfold, and what objection can we havQ
to the nian for employing what is his own, to his own
profit ? Besides, I did speak to him, and he very readily
and civilly promised, that, if he found bones or monu-
ments, they shonld he carefully respected and reinstated;
and what more could I a^k ? So, the first stone they
found bore tlie name of Margaret Botbwell, 1585, and I
have caused it to be laid carefully aside, as I think it be-
tokens deatli ; and having served my namesake two hun-
dred years, it has juat been cast up in time to do me the
same good turn. My house has been long put in order,
as far as the small earthly concerns require it, but who
shall say tlint their account with Heaven is sufDciently

aunt," I replied, " perhaps
away, and so I should, but
Hoy mingled with

old grave-

"Afler what you have said,
I ought to take my hat and gc
that there is on this occasion
our devotion. To think of death at all
lo suppose it nearer, from the find!
stone, is superstition ; and you, with your strong useful
common sense, which was so loi)g the prop of a fallen
family, are the last pei'son whom I should have suspected
of such weakness."

" Neither would 1 deserve your suspicions, kins-
man," answered Aunt Margaret, " if we were speaking
of any incident occurring in the actual business of human
iife> But for all this I have a sense of supcrsUtion about
me, which I do not wish to part with. It is a feeling
which separates me from this age, and links me with that
lo which I am hastening ; and even when it seems, as
now, lo lead me to the brink of the grave, and bids me
gaze on it, I do not love that it should he dispelled. It
soothes my imagination, wi'.liout influencing ray reason
or conduct."

232

1VAVEHLET NO'

" I profeso, my good lady," replied I, " tiiat had any
one but you made such a deciaration, I should have
Ihought it as capricious as that of the clergyman, who,
without vindicating his false reading, preferred, Irom
habifs Bake, his old Mumpsimus to the modem Sump-
simus."

"Well," answered my aunt, "I must explain my in-
consisteucy in this particular, by comparing it to another.
I am, 1)9 you know, a. piece of that old-faahioned thing
called a Jacohite ; hut I am bo in sentiment and feeliag
s loyal subject never joined in pi^iyera
id wealth of George the Fourth) whom
ve ! But I dare say that kind-hearted
not deem that an old woman did him
much injury if she leaned back in her arm-chair, just in
such a twilight as this, and Ihought of the high-metded
men, whose sense of duty called them to arms against hia
grandfather; and how, in a cause which they deemed
that of their rightful prince and country.

for the health i
God long prese

Do not come at such a moment, when my head is fijll of
plaids, pihrochs, and claymores, and ask my reason to
admit what, I am afraid, it cannot deny — I mean, that
the public advantage peremptorily demanded that these
things should cease to exist. I cannot, indeed, refuse to
allow the justice of your reasoning ; but yet, being con-
vinced against my will, you will gain little by your mo-
tion. You might as well read to an infatuated lover the
catalogue of his mistress's imperfections ; for, when he
has been compelled to listen lo the summary, you will
only get for answer, that, ' he lo'es her a' the bett^ir.' "

■ l[ARfiATlET*8 MIRROR.

1 n

1 have changi

1 the gloc

233
of

Aunt Margaret's llinughts, and replied hi iho same tone,
" Well, I can't help being persuaded that our good King
is the more sure of Mrs. Bothwell's loyal affection, that
he has the Stuart right of birth, as well as the Act of
Succession in his favour."

" Perhaps my otiachinent, were its source of conse-
quence, might be found wanner for the union of the
rights you mention," said Aunt Mnrgiiret; "but, upon
my word, it would be as sincere if the King's right were
founded only on tiie will of Ihe nation, as declared at the
Bevolutiou. I am none of yoar jure dtvitto folk."

" And a Ja«)bite notwithstanding."

" And a Jacobite notwithstanding ; or rather, I will
give you leave to call me one of the party which, in
Queen Anne's lirae, were called Whimsical s ; because
they were sometimes operated upon by feehngs, some-
times by principle. After all, it is very hard that you
will not allow an old woman to be as inconsistent in her
political senlimenla, as mankind in general show them-
selves in all Ihe various courses of life ; since you cannot
point out one of them, in which the passions and pre-
judices of those who pursue it are not perpetually car-
rying us away from the path which our reason points

"True, aunt; hut you are a wilful wanderer, who
should be forced back into the rigiit path."

" Spare me, I entreat you," replied Aunt Margareti
" You remember the Gaelic song, though I dare say I
raispronouuce the words —

' Until mohntil, nn dowski mi.'
' I Hm asleep, do not imken me.'

I tell you, kinsman, that (he sort of waking dreams which

L

S31

WA^'EBLBY SOTELS.

my imngination spin^ out, ia what your favourite Words-
worth cnlU ' miwds of my own mind,' are worth all the
rest of my moi-o active days. Then, instead of looking
forwai-dn as I did in youlh, and forming for mystlf fiiiry
palaces, upon Ihe yerge of the grave, I turn my eyea
backward upon ilie day^ and mannei's of my better time]
and tho sad, yet Bool)iit>g recolleclions come bo close and
iatere^ling, that I almost think it sacrilege to be wiser, of |
more raiionai, or Iwa prejudiced, than ihose to whom I I
looked up in my younger years."

"I think I now undersiand what you mean," I
swered, " and can comprehend why you should occasion-. 1
ally prefer the twilight of illusion to tho steady light of I

" Where there is no task," she rejoined, " to be peivj
formed, we may ait in ihe dark if we hke it — if we go
work we must ring for candies."

" And amidst such shadowy and doubtful light," «
tinucd I, " imagination frames her enchanted and t
eiiauting visions, and sometimes passes them upon the ,
senses ibi- reality."

" Yes," said Aunt Mjirgaret, who is n well-read woman,
" U> those who resemble the translator of Tasso,

'Prevailing poet, wlio'o nndoubting mind

It is not required for this purpose, that you should be
sensible of the painful horrors which an actual belief in
such prodigies indicia — such a belief, now-a-days, belongs
only to fools and children. It is not necessary that your
eai's should tingle, and your complexiou change, like that
of Theodore, at the approach of the spectral huntsnian.
^11 that is indispensable for the enjoyment of the mil^ec'

MY ADHT HAEOAHET'S MIRROB. 235

feeling of supematiiral awe is, that you should be sus*
ceptible of the slight shuddering which creeps over jou
when you hear a tale of terror — that well-vouched tale
which the narrator, liaving first expressed his general
disbelief of all such legendary lore, selects and produoea,
as having something in it which he has been always
obliged to give up as inexplicable. Another symptom is,
a momentary hesitation to look round you, when the in-
terest of the narrative is at the highest ; and the third, a
desire to avoid looking into a mirror, when you are alone,
in your chamber, for the evening. I mean such are
eigns which indicate the crisis, when a female imagination
is in due temperature to enjoy a ghost story. I do not
pretend to describe those which express the same disposi-
tion in a gentleman."

" That last symptom, dear aunt, of shunning the mirror,
seems likely to be a rare occurreDce amongst the fair

" You are a novice in toilet fashions, my dear kinsman.
AH women consult the looking-glass with anxiety before
they go into company ; but when they return home, the
mirror has not the same charm. The die has been cast
— the party has been successful or unsueceasful, in the
impression which she desired to make. But, without
going deeper into the mysferioa of the dressing-table, I
will tell you that I myself, like many other honest folk,
do not like to see the blank black front of a large mirror
in a room dimly lighted, and where the reflection of the
candle seems rather lo lose itself in the deep obscurity of
the glass, than to be reflected back again into the apart-
ment. That space of inky darkness seems to be a field
for Fancy to play her revels in. She may call up other
features to meet us, instead of the reflection of our ownj

2S6 WATERLET NOTELB.

or, as ID Ibe spells of Hallowe'en, which we leamed in
childhood, some unknown form may be seen peeping over
our sLoulder. In short, when I am in a ghost-seeing
humour, I miike my haniJmaiden dravr the green cui'tains
over the mirror, before I go into the room, so that she
may have the first shock of the apparition, if there be any
to be seen. But, lo tell you the truth, this dislike to look
into a mirror ia particular times and places, has, I believ^
its original foundation in a. story which came to me by
tradition from my grandmother, who waa a party con-
cerned in the scene of which I will now tell you."

THE MIEROK.

CHAPTER I.

Tou are fond (said my aunt) of skelchea of the society
wliicb has passed away. I wish I could describe to
you Sir Philip Forester, the "chartered libertine" of
Scottish good company, about tlie ead of the last century.
I never saw him indeed ; but my mother's traditions were
full of his wit, gallantry, and dissipation. This gay
knight flourislied about the end of the 17th and begin-
ning of the 18th century. He was the Sir Charles
Easy and the Lovelace of his day and country : re-
nowned for the number of duels he had fought, and the
successful intrigues which he had carried on. The
supremacy which he had attained in the lashionahle
world was absolute ; and when we combine it with one
or two anecdotes, for which, " if laws were made for
every degree," he ought certainly to have been hanged,
the popularity of such a person really serves to show,
either that the present times are much more decent, if
not more virtuous, than they formerly were ; or, that
high breeding then was of more difficult attainment than
that which is now so called ; and, consequently, entitled

233 WA.VKKLKY KOTELS.

the successful professor to a proportional degree offl
pleuary indulgences and privileges. No beau of this day
could have borae out so ugly a slory as that of Pretty
Pcggj Grindstone, the miller's daughler at Sillermills — ■
il had wellnigh made work for the Lord Advocate. But
it hurt Sir Philip Forester no more than ihe hail hurts
the hearthstone. He was as well received in so<Mety as

ETcr, and dined with the Duke of A the day the

poor girl was hurled. She diL'd of heartbreak. Sut that
has nothing to do with my story.

Now, you must listen to a single word upOD kith, Ida,
and ally ; I promise you I will not be prolix. But it u
necessary to the oulhenticity of my legend, that joa ]
should know that Sir Philip Forester, with his handsome
person, »legaut accomplishipents, and fashionable i
Bers, married the younger Miss Falconer of King's-Cop-
land. The elder sister of this lady had previously
become the wife of my grandfather, Sir Geoffrey Both-
well, and brought into our family a good fortune. Mias J
Jemima, or Miss Jeramie Fakoner, as she was usually J
called, had also about ten thousand pounds sterling — t
then thought a very handsome portion indeed.

The two sisters were extremely different, though each
had their admirers while they remained single. !Lady
Bothwell had some touch of the old King's-Copland blood j
about her. She was bold, though not to (he degree of ■
audacity ; ambitious, and desirous to raise her bouse and
family ; and was, as has been said, a considerable spur to
my grandfather, who was otherwise an indolent man ;
hut whom, unless he has bceu slandered, his lady's influ-
ence involved in some political matters which had been
more wisely let alone. She was a woman of high
principle, however, and luasculiue good sense, b

ise, as soma ^^^J

UI AOKI MABOABETH SUBKOB. 239

of her letters testify, which are atill in my n-ainscot
cabinet.

Jemmie Falconer was the reverse of her sister in every
respect. Her underetanding did not reach above the
ordinary pitch, if, indeed, she could be said to have at-
tained it. Her beauty, while it lasted, consisted, in a
great measure, of delicacy of complexion and regularity
of features, without any peculiar force of expression.
Eren these charms faded under the sufferings attendant
DU an ill-sorted match. She was passionately attached to
her husband, by whom she was treated with a callous,
yet polite indifference, which, to one whose heart was as
tender as her judgment was weak, was more painful per-
haps then absolute ill-usage. Sir Philip was a voluptuary,
that is, a completely selfish egotist, whose disposition and
character resembled the rapier he wore, pohshed, keen,
and brilliant, hut inflexible and unpitying. As he ob-
served carefully all the usual forms towards his lady,
he had the art to deprive her even of the compassion
of the world ; and useless and unavailing as that may he
while actually possessed by the sufferer, it is, to a mind
like Lady Forester's, most painful to know she has it

The tattle of society did its best to place the peccant
husband above the suffering wife. Some called her a
poor spiritless thing, and declared, that, with a little of
her sister's spirit, she might have brought to reason any
Sir PhiUp whatsoever, were it the termagant Falcon-
bridge himself. But the greater part of their acquaint-
ance affected candour, and saw faults on both sides ;
though, in fact, there only existed the oppressor and the
oppressed. The tone of such critics was — " To be sure,
00 one will justify Sir Philip Forester, but then we all

240

tTAVESLET KOTEU^

know Sir Philip, and Jemmie Falconer migbt hava
known what she had lo expect from the beginning. —
Wliat made her set her cap at Sir Philip? — He would
never have looked at her if she had not thrown herself
at his liead, with her poor ten thousand pound-s. I am
sure, if it is money he wanted, she spoiled hia market. I
know where Sir Philip could have done much belter. —
And then, if she would have the man, could not she try
to make him more comfortable at home, and Lave bis
friends oflener, and not plague him with the squalling
children, and lake care all was handsome and in good
style about the house ? I declare I think Sir Philip would
have made a very domestic man, vrith a woman who
knew how to manage him."

Now these fair critics, in raising their profound edifice
of domestic felicity, did not recollect that the corner-stone
was wanting; and tliat to receive good company with
good cheer, the means of the banquet ought lo have been
furnished by Sir Philip ; whose income (dilapidated as it
was) was not equal to the display of the hospitality required,
jnd, at the same time, to the supply of ihe good knight's
mmtu plaitiri. So, in spite of all that was so sagely
suggested by female friends. Sir Philip carried his good-
humour everywhere abroad, and left at home a solitary
mansion and a pining spouse.

At length, inconvenienced in his money afiairs, and
tired even of the short time which he spent in his own
dull house. Sir Philip Forester determined to take a. trip
to the Continent, in the capacity of a volunteer. It waa
then common for men of fashion to do so ; and our
knight perhaps was of opinion that a touch of the mili-
tary character, just enough to esalt, but not render
pedantic, hia qualities as a beau gargon, was necessary to

• IlABGABBTa UIBROB.

24X

maintain possession of the elevated situation which ho
held in the ranks of fashion.

_ Sir Philip's resolution threw his wife into agonies of
terror, by which the worthy baronet was bo much an-
Doyed, that, contrary to his wont, ho took some trouble
to soothe her apprehensions ; and once more brought her
to shed tears, in which sorrow was not altogether nn-
mingled with pleasure. Lady Bothwell asked, as &
favour, Sir Philip's permission to receive her sister and
her family into her own house during his absence on the
Continent. Sir Philip readily assented to a proposition
which saved expense, silenced the foohah people who
might have talked of a deserted wife and family, and
gratified Lady Bothwell, for whom he fell some respect,
as for one who often spoke to him, always with freedom,
and sometimes with severity, without being deterred
either by his raillery, or the prestige of his reputation.

A day or two before Sir Philip's departure, Lady
Bothwell took the liberty of asking him, in her sister'a
presence, the direct question, which his timid wife bad
often desired, but never ventured, to put to him.

" Pray, Sir Philip, what route do you take when you
reach the Continent?"

" I go from Leilh to Helvoet by a packet with ad-

" That I comprehend perfectly," said Lady Bothwell,
dryly ; " but you do not mean to remain long at Helvoet,
I presume, and I should hke to know what is your next

" You ask me, ray dear lady," answered Sir Philip, "a
question which I liave not dared to ask myself. The
answer depends on the fate of war. I shall, of course,
go to head quarters, wherever they may happen to be for

i

242 ' WAVERIET HOVELS.

tbe time ; deliver my letters of introduction ; leam dj
mucli of the noble art of war as may suffice a poor inter-
loping amateur ; and then take a glance at the sort of
thing of wliich we read so much in the Giazette,"

"And I Irual, Sir Philip," said Lady Bothwell, "that
you will rcmemher that you are a husband and a falber ;
aod that though you lliinlt fit to indulge this military
fancy, you will not let it hurry you into dangers which it
13 certainly uuneceaaary for any save professioDol peisona
to encounter?"

" Lady Bolhwell does mo too much honour," replied
the adventurous knight, " ia regarding EUch a circum-
stancQ with the slightest interest. But to soothe your
flattering anxiety, I trust yoar ladyship will recollect,
that I cannot expose lo hazai-d the venerable and pa-
ternal character which you bo obligingly recommend to
my protection, without putting in some peril an honest
fellow, called Philip Forester, with whom I have kept
company for thirty years, and with whom, though Bome
folk consider him a coxcomb, I have not the least desire

" Well, Sir Philip, you are the best judge of your own
affairs ; I have little right to interfere — you are not my
husbaad."

" God forbid ! " — said Sir Philip hastily ; instantly
adding, however, " God forbid that I should deprive ray
friend Sir Geoffrey of so inestimable a treasure,"

" But yon are my sister's husband," replied Ibe lady;
" and I suppose you are awai-e of her present distress of

" If hearing of nothing else from morning to night can
make me aware of it," said Sir Philip, " I should know
something of the matter."

■

i

Msr ACNT ^

243

ui'prised that Lady Bothwell, at
0 much trouble upon bo iusig-

t preteiiil to reply to your wit. Sir Philip,"
SDswercd Lady Bothwell ; " but yoii mu^i be sensible
that all this disfress is on account of apprehensions for
your personal safely."

" In that case, I ai:
least, should frive herself i
niflcant a subject."

" My Bister's interest may account for my heing anxious
to learn something of Sir Philip Forester's motions ;
about which otherwirie, I know, he would not wish me to
L myself, I have a brother's safety, too, to be
for."

"Tou mean Major Falconer, your brother by the
mother's side : — What can he possibly have to do with
our present agreeable converaation ? "

"You have had words togeth'^r, Sir Philip," said Lady
Bothwell.

" Naturally ; we are connexions," replied Sir Philip,
" and as such have always had the usual intercourse."

" That is an ei'asion of the subject," answered the lady.
" By words, I mean angry words, on the subject of your
usage of your wife."

"If," it'plied Sir Pliilip Forester, "you suppose Major
Falconer simple enough to intrude his advice upon me.
Lady Bothwell, in my domestic matter.!, you are indeed
warranted in believing that I might possibly be so far dis-
pleased with the interference, as to request him to reserve
his advice (ill it was asked."

"And, being on those terras, you are going to join
the veiy army in which my brother Falconer is now

" No man knows the path of honour better than Major
Falconer," suid Sir Philip. "An aspirant after fame,

i

244 WAVERLKT ITOTELfl.

like me, catmot clioose a beller guide than his foot-
Lady Bolhwull rose and went to tlie window, the tears
gushing fi'otn her ejes.

"And tl[i?i hearllesa raillery," she said, " is all the con-
sideration tliat is to be given to our apprehensions of a
quarrel which raay bring on the most terrible conse-
quences ? Good God I of wbat can men's hearts be
made, who can thus dally with the agony of others ?"

Sir Philip Forester wna moved ; he laid aside the
mocking tone in which he had hitherto spoken.

" Dear Lady Bolhwell," he said, taking her reluctant
hand, "we are both wrong; — you are too deeply serious j
I, perhaps, (oo little so. The dispute I had with Major
Falconer was of no earthly consequence. Had any thing
occurred betwixt ua that ought to have been settled par
vote du fait, as we say in France, neither of us are per-
sons that are likely to postpone such a meeting. Permit
me to say, that were it generally known that you or my
Lady Forester are apprehensive of such a catastrophe, it
might be the veiy means of bringing about what would
not otherwise be likely to happen. I know your good
sense, Lady Bothwell, and that you will understand me
when I say, that really my affairs require mj absence for
some months; this Jemima cannot understand; it is a
perpetual recurrence of questions, why can you not do
this, or that, or the third thing ; and, when you hare
proved to her that her espedients are totally iuefiectua^
you have just to begin the whole round again. Now, do
you tell her, dear Lady Bothwell, that tfou are satisfied.
She is, you must confers, one of those persons with whom
authority goes farlher thau reasoning. Do but repose a
little confidence in me, and you shall see how amply I
will repay iL"

Mr AUNT MARGARET'S UIRBOB. 24S

Lady Bothwell shook her head, as one bat half satis-
fied. " How difBcull it is to extend confidence, when the
bads on which it ought to rest has been ^o much shaken !
But I will do my best lo make Jemima easy ; and farther,
I can only say, that for keeping your present purpose, I
hold you responsible both to God and man."

" Do not fear that I will deceive you," said Sir Philip ;
" the safest conveyance to me will be through the general
poslroffice Helvoetaluys, where I will take care to leave
orders for forwarding my letteia. As for Falconer, oar
only encounter will be over a bottle of Burgundy! so
make yourself perfectly easy on bis score,"

Lady Bothwell could not make herself easy; yet she
was sensible that her sister hurt her own cause by taking
on, as the maid-servants call it, too vehemently ; and by
showing before every stranger, by manner, and sometimes
by words also, a dissatisfaction with her husband's jour-
ney, that was sure to come to his eavs, and equally cer
tun to displease him. But there was no help for thit.
domestic dissension, which ended only with the day of
separation.

I am sorry I cannot tell, with precision, the year ia
which Sir Philip Forester went over to Flanders ; but it
was one of those in which the campaign opened with ex*
traordinary fury ; and many bloody, though indecisive,
skirmishes were Ibugbt between the French on the one
side, and the Allies on the other. In all our modern im-
provements, there are none, perhaps, greater than in the
accuracy and speed with wbicL intelligence is transmitted
from any scene of aclion to those in this country whom it
may concern. During Marlborough's campaigns, the
sufferings of the many who had relations in, or along with,
the army, were greatly augmented by the suspense in

I

S46

VATEBLET HOVliLB.

which they were detained for weeks, after they had heard
of bloody battles, in which, ia all probability, those for
whom their bosomri throbbed with anxiety had been per-
sonally engaged. Among.^t those who were most agonized
by this slate of uncertainty, was the — I had almost said
deserted — wife of the gay Sir Philip Forester. A einglo
letter had informed her of his arrival on the Continent —
no others were received. One notice occurred in the news-
papers, in which Volunteer Sir Philip Forester waa men*
tioned OS having been entrusted with a dangerous recon-
noiasance, which he had executed with the greatest
courage, dexterity, and intelligence, and received the
thanks of the commanding officer. The sense of his
having acquired distinction brought a momentary glow
into the lady's pale cheek ; but it was instantly lost in
ashen whiteness at the recollection of his danger. AfW
this, they had no news whatever, neither from Sir Phihp,
nor even from their brother Falconer. The case of Lady
Forester was not indeed different from that of hundreds
in the same situation ; but a feeble mind ia necessarily an
irritable one, and the suspense which some bear with am.-
stitutional mdifference or philosophical resignation, and
some with a disposition lo believe and hope the beat, waa
intolerable to Lady Forester, at once solitary and eenaitiTe,
low spirited, and devoid of strength of mind, whether
natural or acquired.

MT ACNT UAEGAUET S MIRROB.

CHAPTER n.

Aa she received no farther news of Sir Philip, whether
directly or indirectly, his unfortunal« lady began now to
feel a sort of consolation, eveo in those careless habits
which had so often given her pain. " He is so thought-
lessj" she repeated a hundred times a-day to her sister,
"he never writes when things are going on smoothly;#t
is hia way r had any thing happened he would have in-
formed us."

Lady Bothwell listened to her sister without atterapt-
ing to console her. Probably she might he of opinion,
that even the worst intelligence which could be received
from Fiandera might not be withont some touch of conso-
lation ; and that the Dowager Lady Forester, if so she
was doomeJ to be called, might have a source of happi-
ness unknown to the wife of the gayest and finest gentle-
man in Scotland. This conviction became stronger aa
they learned from inquiciea made at headquarters, that
Sir Philip was no longer with the army ; though whether
he had been taken or slain in some of those skirmishes
which were perpetually occniring, and in which he loved
to distinguish himself, or whether he had, for some un-
known reason or capricious change of mind, voluntarily
left the service, none of his countrymen in the camp of
the Allies could form even a conjecture. Meantime hia
creditors at home became clamorous, entered into poMCs-

les- ^^H

248 TTATKItLET NOTKLB.

Bion of bis jiroppriy, and threatened his person, should he
be rnsh enough to return to Seotlaad. These additional
di^Hdviintages aggravated Lady BothwcU's displeasure
against the fugitive husband ; while her si.ster saw noth-
ing in any of them, save what tended to increase her
grief for the absence of him whom her imagination now
represented, — as it had before marriage, — gallant, gay
and affectionate.

About this period there appeared in Edinburgh a man
of singular appearance and pretensions. He was com-
monly called the Paduan Doctor, from having received
his education at that famous university. He was sup-
posed to possess some rare receipts in medicine, with
^ich, it was affirmed, be had wrought remarkable cures.
But tliuugh, oa the one band, tlie physicians of Ediobui^h
termed him an empiric, there were many persons, and
among them some of the clergy, who while they admitted
the trulh of the cures and the force of his remedies, al-
leged that Doctor Bnptista Damiotti made use of charms
and unlawful arts in order to obtain success in his prao
tice. The resorting to him was even solemnly preached
against, as a seeking of health from idols, and a trustlDg
to the help which was to come from Egypt. But the
protection which the Paduan Doctor received from Bonie
friends of interest and consequence, enabled him to set
these imputations at defiance, and to assume, even in the
city of Edinburgh, famed as it was for abhorrence of
witches and necromancers, the dangerous character of an
expounder of futurity. It was at length rumoured, that
for a certain gratification, which, of course, was not an
inconsiderable one. Doctor Baptisia Damiotii could tell
the fate of the absent, and even show his visitors the pe^
Bonal form of their absent friends, and the action in wliicb

Ll

MY AUIfT SIARGAEETS MIRHOn. 219

they wer-? engaged at the momenL This nimour came to
the Biira of Lady Forester, who had reached that pitch of
mental agony in which the sufferer will do any thing, or
endure any ihing, that suspense may he converted into
certain ly.

Gentle and limid in most cases, her slate of mind made
her equally obstinate and reckless, and it was with no
small surpiisc and alarm that her sister. Lady Bothwell,
heard her express a resolution to visit this inaa of art,
and learn from him the fale of her hushand. Lady
Bothwell remonstrated on the improbability that such
pretensions as those of this foreigner could be founded in
any thing but imposture.

"I care not," said the deserted wife, "what degree of
ridicule I may incur ; if there be any one chance out of
a hundred that I may obtain some certainty of my hus-
band's fate, I would not miss that chance for whatever
else the world can offer me."

Lady Bothwell next urged the unlawfulness of resort-
ing to such sources of forbidden knowledge.

" Sister,"' replied the sufferer, " he who is dying of
thirst cannot refrain from drinking even poisoned water.
She who suffers under suspense must seek information,
even were the powers which offer it unhallowed and in-
fernal. I go to learn my fate alone ; and this very
evening will I know it : the sun that rises to-morrow shall
find rae, if not more happy, at least more resigned."

" Sister," said Lady Bothwell, " if you are determined
upon this wild step, you shall not go alone. If this man
be an impostor, you may he too much agitafed by your
feelings to detect his villainy. If, which I cantiot believe,
there be any truth in what he pretends, you shall not be
exposed alone to a communication of so extraordinary a

2S0

WAVER LBT KOTF-t-S.

nature. I will go with you, if indeed yoo determine to
go. But yet reconsider your project, itnd renounce in-
quiiies irbich cannot be proi^eculed wilhout guilt, and
perhaps without danger,"

Lady Foreater threw herself into her sister's smiB,
and, clasping her to her bosom, thanked her a hundred
limea for the offer of her company; v/hile she declined
with a melancholy gesture (he friendly advice with which
it waB accompanied."

When the hour of twilight arrived, — which was the
period when the Paduan Doctor waa understood to re-
ceive the visits of those who came to consult with him, —
the two ladies left their apartments in the Canongate of
Edinburgh, having their dress arranged like that of
women of an inferior description, and their plaids dis-
posed around their faces as they were worn by the same
class; for, in those days of aristocracy, the qaalify of the
wearer was generally indicated by the manner in which
her plaid was disposed, as well as by the fineness of its
texture. It was Lady Bothwell who had suggested thia
species of disguise, partly to avoid observation as they
should go to the conjurer's house, and partly in order to
make trial of his penetration, by appearing before him in
a feigned character. Lady Forester's servant, of tried
fidelity, had been employed by her to propitiate the
Doctor by a suitable feu, and a story intimating that a
soldier's wife desired to know the fate of her husband;
» subject upon which, in all probability, the sage waa
very frequently consulted.

To the last moment, when the palace clock stmck
eight, Lady Bothwell earnestly watched her sister, in
hopes that she might retreat from her rash undertaking
but aa mildness, and even limidity, is capablf

J

HT AUNT MAKGAEET'S MIHROK.

251

vehement and fixed purposes, she found Lady Forester
resolutely unmoved and determined when the moment of
departure arrived. Ill satisfied with the expedition, but
determined not to leave her sister at such a crisis, Lady
Bothwell ooconipanied Lady Forester through more than
one obscure street and lane, the servant walking before
and acting as their guide. At length he suddenly turned
into a narrow court, and knocked at an arched door,
which seemed to belong to a building of some antiquity.
It opened, though no one appeared to act as porter; and
the servant stepping aside from the entrance, motioned
the ladies to enter. They had no sooner done so, than it
shut, and excluded their guide. The two ladies found
themselves in a small vestibule, illurainnled by a dim
lamp, and having, when the door was closed, no commuui-
cation with the external light or air. The door of an
inner apartment, partly open, was at the farther side of
the vestibule.

" We must not hesitate now, Jemima," said Lady Both-
well, and walked forwards into the inner room, where,
surrounded by hooks, maps, philosophical utensils, and
other implements of peculiar shape and appearance, they
found the man of art.

There was nothing very peculiar in the Italian's ap-
pearance. He had the dark complexion and marked
features of his country, seemed about fifty years old, and
was handsomely, but plainly, dressed in a full suit of
black clothes, which was then the universal costume of
the medical profession. Large waxlights, in silver
sconces, illuminated the apartment, which was reasonably
furnished. He rose as the ladies entered ; and, notwith-
standing the inferiority of their dress, received them with
the marked respect due to their quality, and which for-

k.

258 WATEBLET KOTEI.S.

eigners are usually punctilious in rendering to those to
whom su<^h lionour^ are due.

Lady Bothwell endeavoured lo maintain her proposed
incognilo ; and, aa tlio Doctor ushered them to the upper
end of the room, made a motion dediuing his courteaj as
unfitted for their eondition. " We are poor people, air,"
the said ; " only my sister's distress has brought as to
confuU your worship whether"

He smiled as he interrupted her — "I am aware,
madam, of your sister's distress, and iU cause; I am
aware, also, that I am honoured with a Ti^it from two
bdies of the highest consideration — Lady Bolbwell and
Lady Forester. If I could not distinguish them from the
class of society which their present dress; would indicate,
there would be small possibility of my bdng able to
gratify them by pving the information which they come
to seek."

" I can easily understand," said Lndy Bolhwel!

" Pardon my tioldness to interrupt you, milady," cried
the Italian; "your ladyship was abont to say, that yon
could easily understand that I had got possession of your
names by means of your domestic. But in thinking so,
you do injustice to the fidelity of your servant, and, I
may add, to the skill of one who Is also not lesa your
humble servant — Baptisla Damiotti."

" I have no intention to do either, sir," stud Lady
Bothwell, maintaining a tone of composure, though some-
what surprised, " but the situation is something new to
me. If you know who we are, you also know, sir, what
brought us here."

" Curiosity lo know the fate of a Scottish gentleman
of rank, now, or lately, upon the Continent," answered
t II Cavaliero Fhilippo Foresl«r|

a gentleroaii who has the honour to be husband to this
ladj, aniJ, with your ladysliip's permission, for using plain
it deserves that
inestimable advantage."

Lady Forester sighed deeply, and Lady Bothwell
replied —

"Since you know our object without our telling it, the
only question that remains ia, wlicther you have the
power to relieve my siatcr'a anxiety?"

"I have, madam," answered the Paduan scholar;
"but there is still a previous inquiry. Have you the
courage to behold with your own eyes what the Cavaliero
PLilippo Forester is now doing? or will you take it on
my report?"

" That question my sister must answer for herself"
said Lady Bothwell.

" With my own eyes will I endure to see whatever you
have power to show me," said Lady Forester, with the
same determined spirit which had stimulated her since
her resolution was taken upon this subject.

" There may be danger in it."

" If gold can compensate the risk," said Lady Forester,
taking out her purse.

"I do not such things for the purpose of gain," an-
swered the foreigner. " I dare not turn my art to such a
purpose. If I take the gold of the wealthy, it is but to
bestow it on the poor ; nor do I ever accept more than
the sum I have already received from your servant.
Put up your piirsc, madam ; an adept needs not your
gold."

Lady Bothwell considering this rejection of her sister's
offer as a mere trick of an empiric, to induce her to press
H larger sum upon him, and willing that the scene should

854 WAVF.RI.ET NOVELS.

be commenced and ended, offered Bome gold in turn,
observing tbat it was only to fenlarge the spbere of hia
charity.

" Let Lady Bothwell enlarge the sphere of her own
charity," said the Paiiuan, " not merely in giving of alms,
in which I know she is not deficient, but in judging the
character of others ; and let her oblige Bapti»la Damiotti
by believing him honest, till she shall discover him to be
a knave. Do not be surprised, raadnm, if I speak in an-
swer to your thoughts rather than your expressions, and
tell me once more whether you have courage to look on
what I am prepared to show ? "

" I own, sir," said Lady Bothwell, " that your words
Birilte me with some sense of fear ; but whatever my
sister desires to witness, I wilt not shrink from witnessing
along with her."

" Nay, the danger only consists in flie risk of your
resolution failing you. The sight can only last for the
epaire of seven minutes ; and should you interrupt the
vision by speaking a single word, not only would the
charm he broken, but some danger might result to the
spectators. But if you can remain steadily silent for the
seven minutes, your curiosity will be gratified wilbout the
slightest risk ; and for this I will engage my honour."

Internally Lady Bothwell thought the security was but
an indifFerent one ; hut she suppressed the suspicion, as
if she had believed that the adept, whose dark features
wore a half-formed imile, eould in reality read even her
mo.iit secret reflection^. A "olemn pause (hen ensued,
until Lady Forester gathered courage enough to reply to
the physician, as he termed himself, that she would abide
with firmness and silence the sight which he had promised
to exhibit to them. Upon this, he made them a low

k

NY ACXT Margaret's mtrror. 265

obeisance, anJ saying he went to prepare matlera io meet
their wi^li, left the apartment. The two sisters, hand in
hand, as if seeking by that close union (o divert anj
danger which might threaten them, sat down on two
seats in imraedialc contact with each other : Jemima
eeeking support in the manly and habitual courage of
Lady Botbwcll ; and she, on the other Land, more agi-
taled than she had expected, endeavouring to fortify her-
self by the desperate resolution which circumstances had
forced her sister to assume. The one perhaps said lo
herself, (hat her sister never feared any thing; and the
other might reflect, that what so feeble a minded woman
as Jemima did not fear, could not properly be a subject
of spprehensioii Io a person of firmness and resolution

In a few moments the thoughts of both were diverted
from their own situation, by a strain of music so singularly
sweet and solemn, that, while it seemed calculated to avert
or dispel any feeling unconnected with its harmony, in-
creased, at the same tlme^ the solemn excitation which
the preceding interview was calculated lo produce. The
instrument with which Ihey were
i afterwards led my an-
was that of the harmonica, which
r period in life.
When these heaven-born sounds had ceased, a door
opened in the tipper end of the apartment, and they saw
Damiotti, standing at the head of two or three steps, sign
(o them to advance. His dress was so different from that
which he had worn a few minutes before, that they could
hardly recognii^e him ; and the deadly paleness of hia
countenance, and a certain stern rigidity of muscles, Uke
that of one whose mind is made up lo some strange and

I

a that of (
nnacquaiuted ; but
ceslress to believe thai
she heard at a much h

256

WATK1(T,ET NOVEtS.

daring action, liad totally changed the somcwliat sarc^tie
enprespioii wifli which he had previously regarded them
boih, and particularly Lady Eolhwel!. He was bare-
fooled, excepting a species of ^andala in the antique faah-
ion i his legs were naked beneatli the knees ; above them
he wore hose, and a doublet of dark crimson silk close to
bia body ; and over ihnt a flowing loose rohe, something
resembling a surplice, of snow-white linen ; his throat and
Deck were uncovered, and his long, straight, black hair
was carefully combed down at full length.
I' As the ladies approached at his bidding, he showed no

|| gesture of that ceremonious courtesy of which ho had

;i been formerly lavish. On the contrary, he made the

i| signal of advance with an air of command; and when,

arm in arm, and with insecure steps, the sisterB ap-
proached the spot where he stood, it was with a warning
frown that he pressed his finger to his lips, as if reit-
\ crating his condition of absolule silence, while, stalking

I before them, he led the way into the next apartment.

1 This was a large room, hung with black, as if for a

;. funeral. At the upper end was a table, or rather a spe-

i| cies of altar, covered with the same lugubrious colour, on

'i which lay divers objects resembling the usual implements

I of sorcery. These objects were not indeed visible as they

j advanced into the apartment ; for the light which dis-

I played them, being only that of two expiring lamps, was

1 extremely faint, Tlie master— to use the Italian phrase

for persons of this description — approached the upper
I end of the room with a gcnutleetion like that of a Catholic

ij . to the crucifis, and a! the ?ame ticne crossed himself. The

,1 ladies followed in silence, and arm in arm. Two or three

low broad ste|>s led (o a platform in front of the altar, or
I what resembled such. Here the sage took bis stand, and

M ^M

IIT aVTtI JIAltGARET'S UntKOR.

257

placed tLe ladies beside him, once more earnestly repeat-
ing by si^a his injunctions of silence. The Iialian then,
extending his bare arm from under his linen vestment,
poiiii«d wiih his forelingcr to five large flamtjeaux, oi
torches, placed on each side of Ihe aliar. They took flrs
Bucceasively at the approBcIi of his band, or mlher of his
finger, and spread a strong light through the room. By
this Ihe Fisitors conld discern that, on the seeming altsr,
were disposed two naked aword^ laid crosswise ; a large
open book, which they conceived to be a copy of tlie Holy
Scriptures, but in a language to them unknown ; and he-
side this mysterious volume was placed u human skiiU.
But what struck the sisters most was a very tall and
broad mirror, which occupied all the space behind the
altar, and, illumined by the lighted torches, reflected the
mysterious articles which were laid upon it.

The master then placed himself between the two ladies,
and, pointing to the mirror, took each by (he hand, hut
without speaking a syllable. They gazed intently on the
pohshed and sable space to which he bad diiTCted their
attention. Suddenly ihe surface assumed a new and sin-
gular appearance. It no longer simply reflected the
objects placed before it, but, as if it had self-contained
scenery of its own, objects began to appear within it, at
first in a disorderly, indistinct, and miscellaneous manner,
like form arranging itself out of chaos ; at length, in dis-
tinct and defined shape and symmetry. It v/aa thus that,
after some shifting of light and darkness over the face of
the wonderful glass, a long perspective of arehes and col-
umns began to arrange itself on its sides, and a vaulted
roof on the upper part of it ; till, after many oscillations,
the whole vision gained a fixed and stationary appear-
ance, representing the inlrrior of a foreign church. Tlie

VOL. JtL. IT

itclieoQs ; ttie arcbes
r was lutlered with
no sepnrale shrinea,
riicifix on the altar.

258 IVAVKItLF-r NOTE

pillai'8 wiTc .-[alely, auU bung with sc
were lofty and magnificent ; llie floi
funeral insctiptions. But there wer^
no image:^, no display of chalice or
It was, therefore, a Protestant cliurch upon the conti-
nent. A clergyman, dressed in the Geneva gown and
hand, atood by the communion-lable, and, with the Bible
opened before him, and bis clerk awaiting in the back-
ground, seemed prepared to perform some service of tha
church to which he belonged.

At length tliere entered the middle aisle of the build-
ing a numerous party, which appeared to be a bridal one,
as a lady and gentleman walked first, band in hand, fol-
lowed by a large concourse of persona of both sexes, gaily,
nay richly, atlired. Tlie bride, whose features they could
distinctly see, seemed not mure than sisteen years old,
and estremely beautiful. The bridegroom, for some sec-
onds, moved rather with- hia shoulder towards them, and
his face averled ; but his elegance of form and step struck
the fiisters at once with the same apprehension. As he
turned h'u fnce suddenly, it was frightfully realized, and
they saw, in the gay bridegroom before them. Sir Philip
Forester. His wife uttered an imperfect exclamation, nt
the sonnd of which the whole scene stirred and seemed to
separate.

" I could compare it to nothing," said Lady Botbwell,
while reeouQting the wonderful tale, "but to tlie disper-
sion of the reflection offered by a deep and calm pool,
when a stone is suddenly east into it, and the shadows
become dissipated and broken." The master pressed
Ijolb the ladies' hands severely, as if to remind ihem of
their promise, and of the danger which they incurred.
The exclamation died away on Lady Forester's tongae^

L The e.iclan

MI AUNT Margaret's -uirbor. 2S9

witlioiit allainiiig perfect utterance, and the scene in the
giiis3, afrer the fliKMuation of a minute, agnia resumed to
the eje its former appenrancu of a real scene, existing
wilJiin the mirror, as if represented in a picture, aavo
that the figures were movable instead of being statioa-

BI7-

Tbe representation of Sir Philip Forester, now dia-
tinelly visible in form and feature, was seen to lead on
towards the clergyman that beautiful girl, who advanced
at once with djfhdence, and with a species of affectionate
pride. In the meantime, and just as the clergyman had
arranged the bridal company before bim, and seemed
about lo commence the service, another group of persons,
of whom two or three were officers, entered the church.
They moved, at first, forward, as though they came to
witness the bridal ceremony, but suddenly one of the offi-
cers, whose back was tovrards the spectators, detached
himself from his pompnnions, and rushed hastily towards
tbe man-iflge party, when the whole of them turned
towards him, as if attracted by some exclamation which
had accompanied his advance. Suddenly the intrader
drew his sword ; the bridegroom unsheathed his own, and
made towards him ; swords were also drawn by oilier in-
dividuals, both -of the marriage party, and of those who
had last entered. They full into a sort of confusion, the
clergyman, and some elder and gravei- persons, labouring
apparently to keep the peace, while the hotter spirits on
both sides bi'andished their weapons. But now the period
of the brief s]iace during which the soothsayer, aa he pre-
tended, was permitted to exhibit his art, was arrived. The
fumes again mixed together, and dissolved gradually fi-om
observation ; the vaults and columns of the cbureli rolled
Bsunder, &nd disappeared ; and the fr^nt of the mirror

k

SGO

WAVEKLET S0VEL8.

leflcclt^d uotiijng save the blazing torcliei^, and tlie iselan
diolj appar;ilud placed on (he altar or table before it.

The doctor led tlie ladies, who greatly required Ha sup-
port, ioto the apartment from whence they came j where
irtne, ea-iencea, anil other means of restoring suspended
animation, had been provided (luring his absence. He i
motioned ibein to chnir?, which they occupied in silence;
Lady Forester, in particular, wringing her hands, and
casting her eyes np to heaven, but without speaking %
word, as if llie spell had been still before her eyes.

"And wliat we have seen is even now acting?" said
Liidy Bothwell, collecting herself with difficulty.

"That," answered Baptiata Damiotti, "I cannot justly,
or Tvith certainty, say. But it is either now acting, or has
been acted, during a short space before this. It ia the
last remarkable Irnnsaction in which the Cavalier Fores-
ter has been engaged."

Lady Botlinell (hen expressed anxiety concerning her
sister, whose altered countenance, and apparent uncon-
eciousness of what passed around her, excited her appre-
hensions how it might be possible to convey her borne.

" I have prepared for that," answered the adept i " I
have directed the servant to bring your equipage as near
to this place as (he narrowness of the street will pennil.
Fear not for your sister ; hut give her, when you retnra
home, this composing draught, and she will be belter to>
morrow morning. " Few," he added, in a melanctoly
tone, "leave this house as well in health as they entered
it. Such being the consequence of seeking knowledge by
mysterious means, I leave you to Judge the condition of
those who have the power of gratifying such irregular'
curiosity. Farewell, and forget not the potion."

"I will give hi;r nothing that comes from you,

MY AUST MARGAKEt's MlKROIl.

SGI

Lady Bold well ; "I have seen enough oF your art alreacly.
Perhaps you wonid poison U3 both to conceal your own
necromancy. But we are persons who want neither the
means of making our wronga known, nor the aasiatunce
of friends lo right Ihem."

" You have had no wronga from me, madam," said the
adepL " You sought one who ia little grateful for such
honour. He seeks no one, and only ^ves responaea lo
iLoge who invite and call upon him. After all, yon have
but learned a linle sooner the evil which you mu^t still bo
doomed to endure. I hear your serviint'a step at the
door, and will detain your ladyship and Lady Forealer no
longer. The nest packet from the continent will explain
what you have already partly witnessed. Let it not, if I
may advise, pass loo suddenly into your sister's hands."

So saying, he bid Lady Bofhwell good-night. She went,
lighted by the adept, to the vestibule, where be hastily
threw a black cloak over hia singular dreaa, and opening
the door, intrusted his visitors to the care of the servant. .
It was wilh difiicnily that Lady Bothwell .wslained hep
sister to the carriage, though it was only twenty sfepa dis-
tant. When they arrived at home, Lady Forester re-
quired medical assistance. The physician of (ho family
attended, and shook his head on feeling her pulse.

" Here has been," he said, " a violent and sudden shock
on (he nerves. 1 must know how it has happened."

Lady Bnlhwcll admitted they had visited the conjurer,
and that Lady Forester had received some bad news
respeeiing her husband. Sir Philip,

" Tha( rascally quack would make my fortune were be
to stay in Edinburgh," said the graduate ; " tins ia the
seventh nervous case I have heard of his making for me,
and all by effect of terror." He next examined the com-

2W -WATERLKT HOVKLB.

posing draught which Lady ISothwell had UDConsciousIj
brought ill her harul, lasted it, and pronounced it very
germaiii to the miittcr, and what would save an applica-
tion to the apothecary. He tlien paused, anil looking at
Lady Boihwell very significantly, at length added, " I
suppose I must not ask your ladyship any thing about
thii Italian warloi^k's proceedings?" -*

" Indeed, Doctor," answered Lady Bothwell, " I con-
sider what passed as confidential ; and though the man
may be a rogue, yet, as we were fools enough to coosult
him, we should, I think, be honest enough to keep hid
counsel."

"May be a knave — come," said the Doctor, "I am
glad to hear your ladyship allows such a possibilitj ia
any thing that comes from Italy."

" What comes fi'om Italy may be as good as what comes
from Hanover, Doctor. But you and I will remain good
friends, and that it may be bo, we will say nothing of
. 'Whig and Tory."

" Not I," said the Doctor, receiving his fee, and taking
hia hat ; " a Carolus serres my purpose as well as a Wil-
lielmus. But I should like to know why old Lady Saint
Kingan's, and all that set, go about wasting their decayed
lungs in puffing this foreign fellow."

" Ay — you d b him down a Jesuit, as Scrub

says." On h te m h y parted.

The poor p ti — who e nerves, from an extraordi-
nary stale of en o h d ength become relaxed in as
extraordinary a J — coo nued to struggle with a sort

of imbeciiily, he ^ ow h of uperstitious terror, when the
shocking tidings were brought from Holland, which ful-
filled even her worst expectations.

They were sent by the celebrated Earl of Stur, and-

I

r jiargahet's mirror.

263

contained Ujo melancholy event of a duel belwixt Sir
Philip Forester anil his wife'a half-bi-ollier, Captain Fal-
coner, of the Scotch-Dutch, as they were then called, in
which the latter had heen killed. The oauae of quarrel
rendered the ineidenl still more shocking. It seemed that
Sir Philip had left the army suddenly, in consequence of
♦being unable to pay a very considerable sum, which he
had lost to another volunteer at play. Ho had changed
his name, and taken up hia. residence at Rotterdam, where
be had insinuated himself into the good graces of an an-
cient and rich burgomaster, and, by hia liandsome person
and graceful manners, captivated the affections of bis only
child, a very young person of great beauty, and the heir-
ess of much wealth. Delighted with the specious attrac-
tions of his proposed son in law the weilihy merchant —
who e d a of be B h charac e oo high to admit

of his ak n any p e u on o a qu evidence of his
cond on and rcum an — eh consent to the
ma a I wa abou o be c« e -a d in the principal
chu h of he y hen vas n e up ed by a singular
oc n e

Cap a n F one h ng been de a bed to Hotterdam
o b up a pa o he bn ade of Scottish auxiliaries,
who were m quarters there, a person of consideration in
ibe town, to whom be bad been formerly known, proposed
to him lor amusement to go to the high ehureb, to see a
countryman of his own married to the daughter of a
wealthy burgomaster. Captain Falconer went accord-
ingly, accompanied by his Dutch acquaintance with a
party of his friends, and two or three oificers of the
Scotch brigade. Hia astonishment may be conceived
when he saw his own brother-in-law, a married man, on
the point of leading to the altar the innocent and bcauti-

L

264 M-ATEBLSr NOVELB.

ful creature, upon wbom he was about to pi'actise a base
and unmanly deceit. He proclaimed his villainy on the
Bpot, and the marriage was interrupted of course. Bat
agaioat the opinion of more thinking men, who cOQsidered
Sir Philip Forester as having thrown himself out of ths
rank of men of honour, Captain Falconer admitted him
to the privilege of such, accepted a challenge from him^
and in the rencounter received a mortal wound. Suck
are the ways of Heaven, niys[erious in Our eyes. Lady
Forester never recovered the shock of this dismal intelli-

" And did this tragedy," said I, " take place exactly at
the time when the scene in the mirror was exhibited ? "

" It is hard to be obliged to maim one's story," an-
Bwered my aunt [ " but, to speak the truth, it happened
some days sooner than the apparition was exhibited."

" And so there remained a possibility," said I, " that
by some secret and speedy communication the artist migbt
have received early intelligence of that incident."

" The incredulous pretended so," replied my aont.

" WTiat became of the adept?" demanded I.

" Why, a warrant came down shortly uflerwarda to
arrest him for high treason, as an agent of the Chevalier
St. George; and Lady Bothwel), recollecting the hinta
which bad escaped tbe Doctor, an ardent friend -of the
Protestant succession, did then call to remembrance, that
this man was chiefly proni among Ihe ancient matrons
of her own political persuasion. It certainly i^eemud
probable that intelligence from the continent, which could
easily have been transmitted by na active mid [>owerful
agent, might have enabled him to prepare such a Bcene

I

C ItARQABKT S UiaHOR.

265

I good a fortune-teller not to be. able to

n destiny would be tragical if Le waited

yith the silver greyhound upon his

WQ Bay, a moonlight flitting, and

n or heard of. Some noise there

r letters found in the house, but it died

aa little

of i)1iatilasma.goria as eiie had herself witnessed. Yet
there were so many difliculties in assigning u natural ex*
planation, that, to the day of her death, ehe remained in
great doubt on the subject, and much disposed to cut the
Gordian knot, by admitting the existence of supernatural

*■ " But, my deal- aunt," sajd I, " what became of the man
of skill?"

" Oh, he was to
foresee that his o^
the arrival of the
elecve. He made, s
was nowhere to be s
was about papers o

away, and Doctor Saptista Damioitt t
talked of as Galen or Hippocrates."

" And Sir Pliilip Forester," said I, " did he too vanish
forever from the public scene?"

" No," replied my kind informer, " He was heard of
once raoi-e, and it was upon a remarkable occasion. It is
said that we Scots, when there was such a nation in exist-
ence, have, among out full peck of virtues, one or two
little barleycorns of vice. In particular, it is alleged that
we rarely forgive, and never forget, any injuries received ;
that we used to make an idol of our Fesentment, aa pocn'
Lady Constance did of her grief; and ai'e addicted, as
Burns says, to 'nursing our wrath to keep it warm.'
Lady Bothwell was not without this feeling ; and, I be-
lieve, nothing whatever, scarce the restoration of the
Stewart line, could have happened so delicious to her feel-
ingg as an opportunity of being revenged on Sir Philip
Forester, for the deep and double injury which had de-
prived her of a sister and of a brother. But nothing of

WATEKLET NOVEL a.

liiin was heard or knowit till many a year had passed
iway."

At length — it was on a Fastem's E'en (Shrovetidn)
assembly, at wliich the whole fashion of Edinburgh
attended, full and frequent, and when Lady Boihweli had |
a seat amongst the lady patronesses, that one of the
allendants on the company whispci-ed iulo her ear, that ft'l
gentleman wished to speuk with her in piivat

"In^rivale? and in an assembly-room ?— he must be \
mad— Tell him to call upon rae to-moi-row m

" I said so, my lady," answered the man ; " but he de- ]
sired me to give you this paper."

She undid the billet, which was curiously folded and]
sealed. It only bore the words, " On bimneas o/life and ']
death" writlen in a hand which she had nei
fore. Suddenly it occurred lo her, that it might ci
the safety of some of her pohtioal friends ; she tbcretora I
followed the messenger (o a small apartment where the I
refreshments were prepared, and from which the general I
company was excluded. She found an old man, who, at %
ber approach, rose up and bowed profoundly. His ap-
pearance indicated a broken constitution ; and his dresa,
though sedulously rendered conforming to ihe etiquette
of a bali-room, was worn and tarnished, and hnng in
folds about his emaciated person. Lady Boihweli was
about to feel for her purse, exptcting to get rid of the
supplicant at the expense of a little money, but some fear
of a mistake arrested her purpose. She tlier<:fore gave
the man leisure to explain himself.

" I have the honour to speak with the Lady Botliwell ?

"I ara Lady Bothwell ; allow me to say, that this U D
time or place for long explanations. — What are youi
commands with me ? "

r uahgasets untROR.

"Tour ladyship," said the old n

0, " had 01

« True ; whom I loved a

" Aud a brother,"

"The bravest, the kindest, the moat afFectionate ! " said
Lady Both well.

" Both these belored relatives you lost by the fault of
Rn unfortunate man," continued the stranger.

" By the crime of an unnatural, bloody-minded mur-
derer," said the lady.

" I am answered," replied the old man, bowing, ns if to
withdraw.

" Stop, sir, I coronjand you," said Lady Bothwell. —
" Who are you, that, at such a place and time, come to
recall these horrible recollections ? I insist upon know-
ing."

" I am one who intends Lady Bothwell no injury ; but,
on the contrary, to offer her the means of doing a deed
of Christian charity, which the world would wonder at,
and which Heaven would reward ; but I find her in no
temper for such a sacrifice as I was prepared to ask."

" Speak out, far ; what is your meaning ? " said I<ady
Bothwell.

"The wretch that has wronged yon so deeply," rejoined
the stranger, "is now on his death-bed. His days have
been days of misery, his nights have been sleepless hours
of anguish — yet he cannot die without your foi^iveness.
His life has been an unremitting penance — yet he darca
not part from his burden while your curses load his soul."

" Tell him," said Lady Bothwell sternly, " lo ask par-
don of that Being whom he has so greattj' offended ; nol
of an erring mortal like himself. What could my for
given ess avail him ? "

"Much," answered the old man. "It wilt be an ear-

208

nest of Ihnt wliicli lie may then venture to a'^k fTOm his
Creator, l.idj, and from yotiTB. Itempniber, haHj Bolh-
well, you loo liave a death-bed to loolt forward to ; your
Boul may, all human bouI^ must, fed the awe of facing
tlie judgment seat, with the wounds of an untenled con-
science, raw, nnd rankling — what thought would it be
then that should wliisper, 'I have given no mercy, how
then shall I ask it ?'"

" Man, whosoever thou mayst he," replied Lady Bolli-
well, " urge me not bo cruelly. It would be but blas-
phemous hypocrisy to utter with my lips the words
which every throb of my heart protests against. Tbey
would open ihe earth and give to light Ihe wasted form
of my sister— the bloody form of my murdered brother —
forgive him? — Never, never!"

" Great God ! " cried Ihe old man, holding up his hands,
"is it thus Ihe worms which thou hast called out of dust
obey the commands of their Maker ? Farewell, proud and
unforgiving woman. Exult that thou hast added to a
death in want and pain the agonies of religious despair:
but never again mock Heaven by pelitiouiug for the
pardon which thou hast refused to grant."

He was laming from her,

" Stop," she exclaimed ; " I will tryj yes, I will try to
pardon him."

" Gracious lady," said the old man, "you wUl relieve
Ihf over-burdened soul, which dare not seTer itself from
its sinful companion of earth without being at peace with
you. What do I know — your forgiveness may perhaps
preserve for penitence the dregs of a wretched life."

" Ha ! " said the lady, as a sudden light broke on her,
"it is ihe villain bimself ! " And grasping Sir Philip
Forester — for^t was he, and no other — by ihe collar, aha

raised a cry of '

singular, in such a place, tbe
company thronged into the apartment, but Sir Philip
Forester was no longer there. He had forcibly extri-
cated himself from Lady Bothwell's hold, and had run
out of the aparlment which opened on the landing-place
of the stair. There seemed no escape in that direction,
for there were several persons comiag up the steps, and
others descending. But the unfortunate man was des-
perate. He threw himself over the balustrade, and
alighted safely in the lobby, though a leap of fifteen feet
at least, then dashed into the street and was lost in dark-
ness. Some of the Bothwell family made pursuit, and,
had they come up with the fugitive, ihey might have per-
haps slain him; for in those days men's blood ran varm
in their veins. But the police did not interfere; the
matter most criminal having happened long since, and in
a foreign land. Indeed, it was always thought, that this
extraordinary scene originated in a hypocritical eaperi-
nient, by which Sir Philip desired to ascertain whether
he might return to his native country in safety from the
resentment of a family which he had injured so deeply.
As the result fell out so contrary to his wishes, be is be-
lieved to have returned to the continent, and there died

I

THE TAPESTRIED CHAMBER;

THE LADY IN THE SACQUE.

This is another little story, from the Keepsake of
1828. It was lold to me many years ago, by the lat«
Jiiss Anna Sewatd, who, among other accompIUhmeats
lliaC rcndci'cd her an amusing inmate in a counlij bouse,
had that of rei^ounting nairatives of this sort with very
considerable effect ; mnch greater, indeed, liiaD any one
would be apt to guess from the style of her written per-
formances. There are hours and mooda when most
people are not displeased to listen to suuh things ; and I
have heard some of the greatest and wisest of my con-
temjwraries take their share in telling them.

Aaput, IfiSL

Ten following naiTalive is given from the pen, so fiir
as memory permits, in the same eharacter in which it
was presented to the author's ear ; nor has he claim U>

THE TAPEBTRIED CBAIIBER. 271

farllier praise, or to be more deeply censured, than in
propoMioQ to the good or bad judgment which he has
employed in selecting bis materials, ad be has sltidiously
avoidi^d any attempt at ornament, which might interfere
with the simplicity of the tale.

At the same time, it must be admitted, that the par-
ticular class of stories which turns on the mnryellouB,
possesses a stronger inSuence when told than when com-
milled to print. The volume taken up at noonday,
though rehearsing the same ineidents, conveys a much
more feeble impression than is achieved by the voice of
the speaker on a circle of fireside auditors, who hang
upon the narrative as the narrator details the minute
incidents whicb serve to give it authenticity, and lowers
bis voice with an affectation of mystery while he ap-
proaches the fearful and wonderful part. It was with
such advantages that the present writer heard the follow-
ing events related, more than twenty years since, by tbe
celebrated Hiss Seward, of Litchfield, who, (o her numer-
ous accomplishments, added, in a remariiable degree, the
power of narrative in private conversation. In ite pres-
ent form, the laic must necessarily lose all tbe interest
which was attached to it, by tbe flexible voice and intel-
ligent features of the gifted narrator. Tet still, read
aloud, to an undoubting audience by the doubtful light of
the closing evening, or in silence, by a decaying taper,
and amidst the solitude of a half-lighted apartment, it
may redeem ils character as a good ghost story. Miss
Seivard always affirmed (hat she had derived her infor-
malion from an authentic source, although she suppressed
ihe names of the two persons chiefly concerned. I will
not avail myself of any particulars I may have since re-
ceived concerning the localities of the detail, but suffer

272

■WATBBLBT HOTKLB.

them to rest under the same general description in which
they were first related to me ; and, for the same reason,
I will not nild to, or diminish the narrative, by any cir-
cumstance, whether more or less material, but simply
rehearse, us I heard it, a story of supernatural terror.

About the end of the American war, when the officers
of Lord Comwallis'a army, which surrendered at York-
town, and others, who had been made prisoaers diuing
the impolitic and ill-fated controversy, were returning to
their own country, to relate their adventures, and repose
themselves after their fatigues; there was amongst them
a general officer, to whom Miss S. gave (be name of
Browne, but merely, as I understood, to save the incon-
venience of introducing a nameless agent in the narrative.
He was an officer of merit, as well as a gentleman of high
consideration for family and attainments.

Some business had carried General Browne upon a
tour through ihe western counties, when, in ihe conclu-
sion of a morning stage, he found himself in the vicinity
of a small country town, whieh presented a scene of un-
common beauty, and of a character peculiarly English.

The little town, with its stately old church, whose tower
bore testimony to the devotion of ages long past, lay amidst
pastures and corn-lields of small extent, but bounded and
divided with hedgerow timber of great age and size.
There were few marks of modem improvement. Tha
environs of the place intimated neither the solitude of de-
cay, nor the bustle of novelty ; the houses were old, but
in good repiwr; and the beautiful hltfe river murmured
freely on its way to tlie left of the town, neither restrained
by a dam, nor bordered by a towing-path.

Upon a gentle wpiMnce, nearly a mile to the aouthwud

! TAPESTKIED CHAMBEE.

273

of the InwTi, were seen, amongst many venerable oaks
and tangled ihicket:^, the turrets of a castle, as old as the
wars of York and Lancaster, but which seemed to have
received impoi-tant alterations during the age of Elizabeth
and her successor. It had not been a place of great size ;
hut whalever accommodaiJoD it fbrmei'ly afforded, was, it
inast be e^upposed, still to be oblained within its walls ; at
least, siiL-h was the inference which General Browne
drew from observing the smoke arise merrily from sev-
eral of the ancient wreathed and carved chimney-stalks.
The wall, of the park ran alongside of the highway for
two or three hun3red yards ; and through the diSerent
points by which the eye found glimpses into the woodland
scenery, it seemed to be well stocked. Other points of
view opened in succession ; now a full one, of the front
. of the old castle, and now a side glimpse at its particular
towers ; the former rich in all the bizarrerie of the Eliza-
bethan school, while the simple and solid strength of other
parts of the building seemed lo show that they had been
raised more for defence than ostentation.

Delighted with the partial glimpses which he obtained
of the CD,?lle through the woods and glades by which this
ancient feudal fortress was surrounded, our military trav-
eller was determined lo inquire whether it might not de-
serve ft nearer view, and whether it conlained family pic-
tures or other objects of curiosity worthy of a stranger's
visit ; when, leaving the vicinity of the park, he rolled
through a clean and well-paved street, and stopped at the
door of a well-frequented inn.

Before ordering horses to proceed on his journey. Gen-
eral B[-owne made inquiries concerning the proprietor of
the chateau which had so attracted his admiration, and
was equally surprised and pleased at hearing in reply a

L

274

WATEKLET HOTELS.

nobleman named whom we shall call Lord WoodviUe.
How fortunate ! Much of Browne's early recoUeciiona,
both at school and at college, had been connected with
young WoodviUe, whom, by a few questions, he now
ascertained 1o be the same with the owner of this iair do-
main. He had been raised to the peerage by the decease
of his father a few months before, and, as Ihe General
learned from the landlord, the term of mourning being
ended, was now taking possession of his paternal estale,
in the jovial season of merry autumn, accompanied by a
aeleet parly of friends to enjoy the sports of a country
famous for game.

This was delightful news to our traveller, Frank
WoodviUe Itad been Richard Browne's fag at Eton, and
his chosen intimate at Christ Church; their pleasures and
their tasks had been the same ; and the honest foldier's
heart warmed to find his early friend in possession of so
delightful a residence, and of an estate, as the landlord
assured him with a nod and a wink, fully adequate to
maintain and add to his dignity. Ifothing was more nat-
ural than that the traveller should suspend a journey,
which there was nothing to render hurried, to pay a yisit
to an old friend under such agreeable circumstances.

The fresh Ijorses, therefore, had only the brief task of
conveying ihe General's travelling carriage to WoodviUe
Castle. A porter admitted them at a modem Gothic
Lodge, built in tliat style to correspond with the Castle
itself, and at the same time rang a bell to give warning
of the approach of visitors. Apparently the sound of the
hell had suspended tJie separation of the company, bent
on the various amusements of the morning; for, on enter-
ing the court of the chateau, several young
lounging about in their sporting dresses, looking

gat, and ^^J

THE TAPESTltlED CHAMBEI!.

273

critkisiiig, lliB dogs which llin keepers lielil in readiness
to attend ihfir pnslinie. As General Browne aliglited,
llie young lord came lo the gate of tlie hall, and for an
iniitant gazed, as at a stranger, upon the countenance of
his friend, on which war, with its fatigues and its wounds,
had made a great alteration. But the uncertainty lasted
no longer than till the visitor had spoken, and the hearty
grueling which followed was such as can only be es-
chan»ed betwixt those who have passed together the
merry daya of careless boyhood or early youih.

" If I could have formed a wish, my dear Browne,"
said Loi-d Woodville, " it would have been to have you
here, of all men, upon ihia occasion, which my friends are
good enough to hold as a sort of liolyday. Uo not thinli
you have been unwatched during the years you Lave
been absent from us. I have traced you through your
dangers, your triumph:?, your misfortunes, and was de-
lighted to see that, whether in victory or defeat, (he
name of my old friend was always distinguished with
applause."

Tile General made a suitable reply, and congratulated
his friend on his new dignities, and the posse-ssion of a
place and domain so beautiful.

" Nay, you hare seen nothing of it as yet," said Lord
Woodville, "and I trust you do not mean to leave us till
you are belter acquainted with it. It is true, I confess,
that my present party is pretty large, and the old house,
like other places of the kind, does not possess so much
accommodation as llie extent of the outward walls op-
pears to promise. But we con give you a comfortable
old-fashioned room ; and I venture to Juppo-JC that your
campaigns have taught you to be glad of worse quarters."

The General shrugged his shoulders, and laughed.

276 WAVKKLBT HOVELS.

" I presunie," lie said, " the worst apartment in yc
shateau i^ considerablj superior to [liu old tobacco-ca^k,
in ntiicli I was fain to lake up mj night's lodging whea
I was in the Bush, as the Virginians call it, with the light
corps. There I lay, like Diogenes himself, so delighted
with my covering from the elements, that I made a vain
attempt to have it rolled on to my next quarters ; but my
commander for the time would give way (o no such luxu<
rious provision, and I took farewell of my beloved casl^l
with (e-ara in my eyes."

" Well, then, since you do not fear your quarters," s&H
IjOrd "Woodville, " you will stay with me a week at leaaL
Of guns, dogj, fishing-rods, flies, and means of sport by
sen and land, we have enough and to spare : you cannot
pitch on an amusement, but we will find the means of
pursuing it. But if you prefer the gun and pointers,
I will go with you myself, and see wliether you have
mended your shooting since you have been amongst
Indians of the back settlements."

The General gladly accepted bia friendly host's pro-
posal in all its points. After a morning of mmily exer-
cise, the company met at dinner, where it was the delight
of Lord Woodville to conduce lo the display of the high
properties of his recovered friend, so as to recoromend
him to his guests, most of whom were persons of disdno-
tion. He led General Browne to speak of the scenes ha
bad witnessed ; and as every word marked alike the brave
officer and the sensible man, who retained possession of
his cool judgment under the most imminent dangers, the
company looked upon the soldier with general respect, as
on one who had proved himself possessed of an uncommon
portion of personal courage — that attribute, of all others,
irf whidi everylfody desires lo be thought possessed.

n

M

THB TAPESTRIED <

277

The day at WoodTille Castle ended as umihI in such
mansions. The hospilalily stopped within the limits of
good order ; music, in which the young lord was a profi-
cient, succeeded ,to the circulation of the bottle : cards
and billiurds, for those who preferred such amusements,
were in readiness ; but the exercise of the morning re-
quired early hours, and not long after eleven o'elock the
guesta began to retire to their several apftrtments.

The young lord himself conducted his friend, General
Browne, to the chamber destined for him, which answered
the description he bad given of it, being comfortable, but
old-fashioned. The bed was of the massive form used in
the end of the seventeenth century, and the curtains of
faded silk, heavily trimmed with tarnished gold. But
then the sheets, pillows, and blankets looked delightful to
the campaigner, when he thought of his " mansion, the
cask." There was an air of gloom in the tapestry hang-
ings, which, with their worn-out graces, curtained the
walls of the little chamber, and gently undulated as the
autumnal breeze found its way through the ancient lattice-
window, which pattered and whistled as the air gained
entrance. The toilet too, witli its mirror, turbaned, after
the manner of the beginning of the century, with a coif-
fure of murrey-coloured silk, and its hundred strange-
shaped boxes, providing for arrangements which had been
obsolete for more than fifty years, had an antique, and in
so far a melancholy, aspect. But nothing could blaze
more brightly and cheerfully than the two large wax
candles ; or if aught could rival them, it was the
flaming bickering fagots in the chimney, that sent at
once their gleam and their warmth through the snug
apartment ; which, notwithstanding the general antiquity
of its appearance, was not wanting ir the least con-

278 -WATEHt-ET N0TEL3,

venience (hat modern habits rendered cither c
or desirable.

" This is an old-fashioned sleeping apartment, Genera
auid the young lord; "but I hope you find nothing t
makes you envj your old tobacco-cask."

" I am not particular respKCting my lodgings," replig
the General ; "yet were I to make any choice, I woi
prefer this chamber by many degrees, to the gayer a
more modern rooms of your family mansion. Believe
me, that when I unite its modern air of comfort with ita
venerable nntii]uity, and recollect that it is your lordship'b
property, I shall feel in better quarters here, than if I
were in the best hotel London could afford."

" I ti'ust^I have no doubt — that you will find yourself
as comfortable as I wish ytui, my dear Genei-al," said th^i
young nobleman ; and once more bidding his guest g
night, he shook him by the hand and withdrew.

The General again looked round him, and iDtcmnl^
congratulating himself on his return to peaceful life, thi
comforts of which were endeared by the recollection
the hardships and dangers he had lately sustained,
dressed himself, and prepared for a luxurious night's I

Here, contrary to the cuslora of this species of tale,
we leave the General in possession of his apartment lui'
til the next morning.

The company assembled for breakfast at an early hour,
but without the appearance of General Browne, who
seemed the guest that Lord "Woodville was desirous of
honouring above all whom his hospitality had assembled
around him. He more than once exprci^sed surprise at
the General's absence, and nt length sent a servant to
make inquiry after him. The man brought back

J

THE TAPESTRIED CHAIIBER.

27S

mation tliat Groneral Browne had been walking abroad
since tin early hour of the morning, in defiance of Ibe
weather, which was misty and ongenial.

" Tlje custom of a soldier," said the young nobleman
to hia friends ; " many of them acquire habitual vigilance,
and cannot sleep nfter the early hour at which their duty
usually commands them to be alert."

Yet the explanation which Lord Woodville thus offered
to the company seemed hardly salisfactory to his own
mind, and it was in a (it of silence and abstraction that
he awaited the retui'n of the General. It took place
near an hour after the breakfast bell had rung. He
looked fatigued and feverish. His hatr, the powdering
and arrangement of which was at this time one of the
most important occupations of a man's whole day, and
marked his iashion as much as, in the present time, the
tying of a cravat, or the want of one, was dishevelled,
uncurled, void of powder, and dank with dew. His
clothes were huddled on with a careless negligence,
remarkable in a military man, whose real or supposed
duties are usually held (o include some attention to the
toilet ; and his looks were haggard and ghastly iu a
peculiar degree.

" So you have stolen a march upon us this morning,
my dear General," swd Lord Woodville; "or you have
not found your bed so much to your mind as I had hoped
and you seemed to expect How did you rest last night?"

"Oli, excellently well' remarkably well ! never bet I er
in my life " — -aid General Browne rapidly, and yet with
an air of emb^^^as'^mellt n hich was obvious to his
fnend He then liailily swallowed a cup of tea, and
neglecting or refusing whatever else was offered, seemed
U) fail into 1 ht of abitnction

L

280 WAVEBLET KOTELS.

"You wili lake the gun to-day, Generul;" Baid
friend and ho^t, but had to repeat the question twice
he received the abrupt answer, "No, my lord
Borry I cannot have tLe honour of spending another da;^
wilh your lordship; my post horses are oi'dered, and
be here direcliy."

All who were present showed surprise, and
"Wood-rille immediately replied, "Post horses, niy
friend ! what can you possibly want with them, when yoa
promised (o slay wilh me quietly for al least a week ? "

" I believe," said the General, obviously much embar-
rassed, "ihat I might, in the pleasure of my first meelin^
with your lordship, have said somelhing about slopping
here a few days ; but I have since found it altogether
impossible."

"That is very extraordinary," answered the young
nobleman. " You seemed quite disengaged yesterday,
and you cannot have had a summons to-day; for oi
post has not come up from the town, and therefore y<
cannot liave received any lelters."

Genei'al Browne, without giving any farther explana*^
lion, muttered something of indispensable business, andcj
insisted on the absolute necessity of his departure in
manner which sUenced all opposition on the part of
host, who saw that his resolution was taken, and fori
farlier importunity.

"At least, however," he said, "permit me, my dear
Browne, since go you will or must, to show you the view
from the terrace, which the mist, that is now rising, wiU
soon display."

lie threw open a sash-window, and stepped down i
Uie terrace as he spoke. The General followed
mechanically, but seemed little to ntlend to what his

rday .

'M

good

TUE TAPESTRIED CHAMBES. 281

wfla saying, as, looking acroaa an extended and rich
prof^peet, lie pointed out the different objects wortLy of
obsei'valion. Thus they moved on till Lord Wooiiville
had attained his purpose of drawing his guest entirely
apart from the rest of the company, when, turning round
upon him with an air of great Eoleronity, he addressed

" Richai-d Browne, my old and very dear friend, we
are now alone. Let me conjure you to answer me upon
the word of a friend, and the honour of a soldier. How
did you in reality rest during last night?"

"Most wretchedly indeed, my lord," answered the
Gtcneral, in the same tone of sokmnity ; — " so miserably,
that I would not run the risk sf such a second night,
not only for all the lands belonging to this castle, but for
all the country which I 8ee from this elevated point of

"This ia most extraoT'dinary," said the young lord, as
if speaking to himself; "then there must be something
in the reports concerning (hat apailment." Again turn-
ing to the General, he said, " For God's sake, my dear
friend, be candid with me, and let me know the disagree-
able particulars, which have befallen you under a roof,
where, with consent of the owner, you should have met
nothing save comfort."

The General seemed distressed by this appeal, and
paused a moment before he replied. " My dear lord," he
at length said, " what happened to me last night is of a
nature so peculiar and so unpleasant, that I could hardly
bring myself to detail it even to your lordship, were it
not thai, independent of my wish to gratify any request
of yours, I Ihink that sincerity on my part may lead to
Bome esplanulion about a circumstance equally painful

WATKRI.Kr KOVRLB.

2SS:

and myaterious. To others, ihe c
about to miikc, might place me in the light of a weak-
minded, auperstitioua fool, who suffered his own imagina-
tion to delude and bewilder him ; but you hare known
me in childhood and youth, and will not suspect me of
having adopted in manhood the feelings and fimltiea (nan.
■which my eai'ly years were free." Here he paused, and
Lis friend replied : —

" Do not doubt my perfect confidence in the truth of
your communication, however strange it may be," replied
Lord Woodviile; "I know your firmnests of di.*positioti
too well, lo suspect you could be made the object of im-
position, and am aware that your honour and your friend-
ship will equally deter you from exaggerating whatever
you may have witnessed."

"Well then," said the General, "I will proceed wilb.'^
my story as well as I can, reljdng upon your candour;, J
and yet distinctly feeling that I would rather face a
battery (ban recall to my mind the odious recollectiona
of last night."

He paused a second time, and then perceiving that
Lord Woodviile remained silent and in an attitude of
attention, he commenced, though not without obvious
reluctance, the history of his night adventures in the
Tapestried Chamber.

" I undressed and went to bed, so soon as your lordship
left me yesterday evening ; bnt the wood in the chimney,
wbijh nearly fronted my bed, blazed brightly and cbecr-
fuily, and, aided by a hundred exciting recollections of my
childhood and youth, which had been recalled by the un-
expected pleasure of meeting your lordship, prevented
me from falling immediately asleep. I ougbt, however,
to say, that these reflections were all of a pleasant and

THE TAPESTRIED

agreeable kind, grounded on a sense of having for a time
exchanged the labom-, fatigues, and dangers of my pro-
fession, for the enjoyments of a peacefiil life, and the re-
union of those friendly and affectionate ties, which I had
lorn asunder at the rude summons of war.

"While such pleasing reflections were stealing over
my mind, and gradually lulling me to slumber, I was
suddenly aroused by a sound like that of the rustling of a
silken gown, and the tapping of a pair of high-heeled
shoes, as if a woman were walking in the apartment.
Ere I could draw the curtain to see what the .matter wa?,
the figure of a little woman passed between the bed and
the fire- The back of this form was turned to me, and I
could observe, from the shoulders and neck, it vaa that
of an old woman, whose dresa was an old-fas liioncd gown,
which, I think, ladies call a sacque ; that i,°, a sort of
robe, completely ioo,=e in the body, hut gathered into
broad plaits upon the neck and shoulders, which fall
down to the ground, and terminate in a species of train.

"I thought the intrusion singular enough, but never
harboured for a moment the idea that what I saw was
any thing more than the mortal form of some old woman
about the establishment, who had a fancy to dress like
her grandmother, and who, having perhaps (as your
lordship mentioned that you were rather atraatened for
room) been dislodged from her chamber for ray accom-
modation, had forgotten the circumstance, and returned
by twelve to her old haunt. Under this persuaaioa I
moved myself in bed and coughed a little, to make the
intruder sensible of my being in possession of the prem-
ises.— She turned slowly round, but, gracious heaven !
Diy lord, what a countenance did she display to me T
There was no longer any question what she was, or any

284

WAVERLET KOTEL5.

thought of lier being a living being. Upon a face which
wore the fixed fealnres of a corpse, were imprinted the
traces of the vilest and most hideous passions which had
animated her while she lived. The body of Bome atro-
cious criminal seemed (o have been given np from the
gravp, and the soul restored from the penal fire, in order
to form, for a space, a union with the ancient accomplice
of ita gnilt. I started up in bed, and sat upright, sup-
porting myself on my palms, as I gazed on this horrible
spectre. The hag made, as it seemed, a single and swift
stride to tbo bed where I lay, and squatted herself down
upon it, in precisely the same attitude which I had as-
Boraed in the extremity of horror, advancing her dia-
bolical countenance within half a yard of mine, with a
grin which seemed to intimate the malice and the derisioD
of an incarnate fiend."

Here General Browne slopped, and wiped from his
brow the cold perspiration with which the recolleelion of
his horrible vision had covered it.

" My lord," he said, " I am no coward. I have been
in all the mortal dangers incidental to my profession, and
I may truly boast, that no man ever knew. Richard
Browne dishonour the sword he wears ; but in these hor-
rible circumstances, under the eyee, and as it seemed,
almost in the grasp of an incarnation of an evil spirit, all
firmness forsook me, all manhood melted from me lika
wax in the furnace, and I felt my hair individually briatle.
The current of my life-blood ceased to flow, and I sank
hack in a swoon, as very a victim to panic terror as ever
was a village girl, or a child of ten years old. How long
I lay in this condition I cannot pretend to giiesa.

" But I was roused by the caatle clock striking one, so
loud that it seemed aa if it were in the very room.

^UBER. 235

was some lime before I dared open my eyea, lest they
should again encounter the horrible speclflcle. When,
however, I summoned courage to look up, she was no
longer visible. My first idea was to pull my bell, wake
tie servants, and remove to a garret or a hay-loft, to he
ensured against a second visitation. Nay, I will confess
the truth, that my resolution waa altered, not by the
ahame of exposing myself, but by the fear thai, as the
bell-cord hung by the chimney, I might, in making my
way to it, be again crossed by the fiendish hag, who, I
Sgured to myself, might be still lurking' about some
corner of the apartment.

" I will not pretend to describe what hot and cold fever-
fits tormented me for the rest of the night, through broken
sleep, weary vigils, and that dubious state which forms
the neutral ground between fhem. A hundred terrible
objects appeared to haunt me ; but there was the great
difference betwixt the vision which I have described, and
those which followed, tliat I knew the last fo be decep-
tions of my own fancy and oi'or-excited nerves.

" Day at last appeared, and I rose from my bed iU in
health, and humiliated in mind. I was ashamed of my-
self as a maD and a soldier, and still more so, at feeling
my own extreme desire to escape from the haunted
apartment, which, however, conquered all other oon-
eideialiona; so that, huddling on ray clothes with the
most careless haste, I made my escape from your lord-
ship's mansion, to seek in the open air some relief to my
nervous system, shaken as it was by this horrible ren-
counter with a visitant, for such I must believe her, from
the other world. Your lordship haa now heard the cause
of my discomposure, and of my sudden desire to leave
your hospitable castle. In other places I trust we may

28£ WAVEKLKY NOVELS.

often meet; liut God [irotect me from ever speDding a
eecood night under that voofl "

Strange as the General's tale was, he spoke with snch
a deep air of conviction, that it cat short all the usaal
common lariea which are made on such stories. Lord
Woodville never once asked him if he was sure he did
not dream of the apparition, or suggested any of the
possibilities by which it is fashionable to explain super-
natural appearances, as wild vagaries of the fancy, or
deceptions of the optic nerves. On the contrary, he
seemed deeply impressed with the truth and reality of
what he had heard; and, after a considerable pause, re--g
gretted, with much appearance of sincerity, that his ea^ly^
frieod should in his house have suffered so severely.

" I am the more sorry for your pain, my dear Browne,"
he continued, " that it is the unhappy, though most i
expected resolt of an experiment of my own ! You must
know, that for my father and grandfather's time, at least,
the apartment which was assigned to you last night, had
been shut on account of reports that it was disturbed
by Bupematuril sights and noises. When I came, a few
weeks since, into possession of the estate, I thought the
accommodation, which the castle afforded for my friends,
was not extensive enough to permit the inhabitants of
flie invisible world to retain possession of a comfortable
deeping apartment. I therefore caused the Tapestried
Chamber, as we call it, to be opened; and without
destroying its air of antiquity, I had such new articles of
furniture placed in it as becanie t!ie modern times. Tet J
as the opinion that the room was haunted very strongly *
prevailed among the domestics, and was also known in
the neighbourhood and lo many of my friends, I feared
some prejudice might be entertained by the first occupant

I

I

r

THB TiPESTBIED CHAKBEK.

of the Tapestried Qiamber, whicli might tend I
the evil report which it had laboured under, and so dis-
appoint my purpose of rendering it a useful part of the
house. I must confess, my dear Browne, that joar ar-
rivai yesterday, agreeable to me for a, thousand reasons
beside?, seemed the most favourable opportunity of re-
moving the unpleasant rumours which attached to the
room, since your courage was indubitable, and your mind
free of any preoccupation on the subject. I could not,
therefore, have chosen a more fitting subject for my ex-
periment.

" Upon my life," said General Browne, somewhat
hastily, "lam infinitely obliged to your lordship — veiy
particularly indebted indeed. I am likely to remember
for &ome time the consequences of the experiment, i^
your lordship is pleased to call it,"

" Nay, now you are unjust, my dear friend," said Lord
Woodville. " You have only to reflect for a single mo-
ment, in order to be conviaced tliat I could not augur the
possibility of the pain to which you have been so unhap-
pily exposed. I was yesterday morning a complete
sceptic on the subject of supernatural appearances. Nay,
I am sure that had I told you what was said about that
room, those very reports would have induced yon, by
your own choice, to select it for your accommodation. It
was my misfortune, perhaps my error, but really cannot
be termed my fault, that you have been afflicted eo
strangely."

" Strangely indeed ! " said the General, resuming hia
good temper ; " and I acknowledge tiiat I have no right
lo be offended with your lordship for treating me like
what I used to think myseli^ — a man of some firmness
and courage. — But I see my post horses t

J

288 WAVKELBT NOVELS.

and I must not detain yoar lordship irom yoar amusfr-

" Nay, my old fiiend," said Lord Woodrille, "
cannot slay with us another day, whicb, indeed, I can no
longer urge, give me at least half an hour more. You
used to loTC pictui-es, and I have a gallery of portraits,
Bome of lliem by Vandyke, representing ancealry lo
whom this property and castle formerly belonged. I
think [hat several of them will strike you as possessing

General Browne accepted the invitation, though some-
what unwillingly. It whs evident he was not to breathe
freely or at ease till he left Woodville Castle far behind
him. He could not refuse his friend's inTilation, bow-
Rver ; and the leas so, that he was a little ashamed of
the peevishness which he had displayed towards lus well-
meaning entertainer.

The General, therefore, followed Lord Woodville
through several rooms, into a long gallery hung ■
pictures, which the latter pointed out to his guest, tel
the names, and giving some aceount of the personages
whose portraits presented themselves in progression.
General Browne was but little interested in ihe delaila
which these accounts conveyed to him. They were,
indeed, of the kind whicli are usually found in an old
family gallery. Here wns a cavalier who had ruined the
estate in the royal cause ; there a fine lady who had re-
instated it by contracting a match with a wealthy Round-
head. There hung a gallant who had been in danger
for corresponding with the exiled Court nt Saint Ger-
mains ; here one who had taken arms for William at
the Revolution ; and there a. third thnt had thrown hia
weight alternately into the scale of Whig and Tory,

THK TAPESTRIED CHAMBER,

While Lord Woodville was cramming thesii wonls into
Ills guest's ear, " against the stomach of bis sense," they
gaioed the middle of the gallery, when he beheld Gen-
eral Browne suddenly start, and assume an altitude of
the utmost surprise, not unmixed with fi^ar, as his eyes
were caught and suddenly rivetted hy a porlrait of an
old lady in a sacque, the fashionable dress of the end of
the seventeenth century.

" There she is 1 " he exclaimed ; " there she is, in form
and features, though inferior in demoniac expression to
the accursed hag who visited me last night ! "

" If that be the ease," said the young nobleman, "there
can remain no longer any doubt of the horrible reality
of your apparition. That is the picture of a wretched
aucestress of mine, of whose crimes a black and fearful
catalogue is recorded in a family history in my chartet^
chesl. The recital of them would be loo horrible ; it is
enough to say, that in yon fatal apartment incest and
unnatural murder were committed. I will restore it lo
the solitude lo wbieb the better judgment of those who
preceded me had consigned it ; and never shall any one,
eo long as I can prevent it, be exposed to a repetition of
the supernatural horrors which could shake such courage

Thus the friends, who had met with such glee, parted
in a very different mood ; Lord "Woodville to command
the Tapestried Chamber to be unraantled, and the door
built up J and General Browne to seek in some less
beautiful country, and with some less dignified friend,
forgetfulneas of the painful night which he had passed in
Woodville Castle.

DEATH OF THE LAIRD'S JOCK.

F. M. Reynolds, edito
for K pre Puce.]
Augutt, IS3I.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE KEEPSAKE.

Ton have aaked me, sir, to point out a subject for
the pencil, and I feel the difficulty of complying with
jour request j although I am not certainly uunccustomed
to literary composition, or & total stranger to the stores
of history and tradition, which afford the best copies for
the painler'B art. But although siciU pictura poesis is
an ancient and undispuled axiom — although poetry and
painting both address themselves to the same object of
exciting the human imuginalion, by presenting to it pleas-
ing or sublime images of ideal scenes ; yet the one
conveying itself through the ears to the understanding
and the other applying itself only to the eyes, the eut>-
jects which are best suited to the bard or tale-teller ara
often totally unfit for painting, where the artist must prc-
Gentin a single glance all that his art has power to tell us.
The artist can neither recapitulate the past nor intimate
the future. The single now is all which he can present ;
and hence, unquestionably, many eubjerCs which delight

DEATH OP THE LAIRD'S JOCK. 391

US in pcMilry, or in narra^Te, whether real or ficiitious,
cannot with advantage be transferred to the canvas.

Being in some degree aware of these difficulties, though
doubtless unatquninted both with their extent, and the
means by which they may be modified or surmounted,
I liave, nevertheless, ventured to draw up the following
traditional narrative as a story in which, when the gen-
eral details are known, the interest is so much concen-
ti-ated in one )<lrong moment of agonizing pa'^sion, that it
can be understood, and sympathized with, at a single
glance. I therefore presume that it may be acceptable
as a hint to some one among the numerous artists, who
have of late years distinguished themselves as rearing
up and supporting the British school.

Enough has been said and sung about
Tho well-eon tested gnmnd,
The warlika bordsr-land—

to render the habits of the tribes who inhabited them
before the union of England and Scotland familiar to
most of your readers. The rougher and sterner features
of their character were softened by their attachment to
the fine arts, from which has arisen the saying that, on
the frontiers, every dale had its battle, and eveiy river
its song. A rude species of chivalry was in constant use,
and single combats were practised as the amusement of
the few intervals of truce which suspended the exercise
of war. The inveteracy of this custom may be inferred
from the following incident: —

Bernard Gilpin, the apostle of the north, the first who
undertook to preach the Protestant doctrines to the
Border dalesmen, was surprised, on entering one of their
churches, to see a gauntlet, or mail-glove, hanging above
the altar. Upon inquiring the meaning of a symbol bo

L

292 WAVEItLET NOVBLa.

indecorous beiug displayed in that sacred place, he nu
informed by ihe clerk, that the glove was that of a fk-
moua swordiman, w)io hung it there aa an emblem of a
geneiiil challenge and gage of battle, to any who should
dare to take the filial token down. " Reach it to me,"
said the reverend churchman. The clerk i
equally declined the perilous office ; and the good Ber-
nard Gilpin was obliged lo remove the glove with hia
own hands, desiring those who were, present to inform
tjie champion, that he, and no other, had possessed
himself of the gage of defiance. But the champion was
as much ashamed to face Bernaid Gilpin as the officials
of the church had been to displace his pledge of combat.

The date of the following story is about the latter years
of Queen Elizubeth's i-eign i and the events took place in
Liddesdale, a hilly and pastoral district of Boxburgh-
shire, which, on a part of its boundary, is divided from
England only by a small river.

During the good old limes of rugging and riving, (that
is, lugging and tearing,) under which term the disordei'ly
doings of the warlike age are affectionately remembered,
this valley was principally cultivated by the sept or clan
of the Armstrongs. The chief of Ibis warlike race waa
the Laird of Mangerton. At the period of which I
speak, the estate of Mangerton, with the power and dig-
nity of chief, was possessed by John Armstrong, a mrin
of great size, strength, and courage. While his father
was alive, he was distinguished from others of his claa
who bore the same name, by the epithet of the Laird's
Jock, that is to say, the Laird's son Jock, or Jack. This
name he distinguished by so many bold and desperate
achievements, that he retained it even after his father's
death, and is mentioned under it both in authentic reeorda

k

PEATH Of THE IAIBD'S JOCK. 293

Knd in li'ndilion. Some of hia feats are recurded iq the
Minstrelsy of ibe Scoltisb Bonier, and others mentioned
in contemporfiry chronicles.

At the fpecies of singular comfcat which we have de-
flcribed, the Laird's Jock was unrivalled ; and no cham-
pion of Cumberland, Westmoreland, or Northumberland,
coald endure the sway of the huge two-handed sword
which he wielded, and which few others could even lift.
This "awful sword," as the common people term ii, was
aa dear to him as Durindana or Fusbberin to their re-
BpectiTe masters, and was nearly as formidable to his
enemies as those renowned falcbiooa proved to tlie foea
of Christendom. The weapon had been bequeathed to
him by a celebrated English outlaw named Hobbie Noble,
who, having conimilted some deed for which ho was in
danger from justice, lied to Liddesdale, and became S fol-
lowei', or rather a brotber-in-arms, to the renowned Laird's
Jock J till, venturing into England with a small escort,
B. faithless guide, and with a light single-handed sword
tni^tead of his ponderaua brand, Hobbie Noble, attacked
by superior numbers, was made prisooer and executed,

With this weapon, and by means of his own strength
and address, the Laird's Jock maintained the reputation
of the best swordsman on the Border side, and defeated
or slew many who ventured to dispute with him the for-
midable title.

But years pass on with the strong and the brave aa
with the feeble and the timid. In process of time, the
Laird's Jock grew incapable of wielding bis weapons, and
finally of all active exertion, even of the most ordinary
kind. The disabled cbarapion became at length totally
bed-ridden, and entirely dependent for his comfort on Iha
pious duties of an only daughter, his perpetual attendant
and companion.

I
J

Wl

WATERLET MOTELS.

Besides tiiia dutiful child, the Laird's Jocli had an onlj
son, upon wliota devolved tiie perilous task of leadiog tha
clan to battle, and maintniiiing the warlike renown of his
native countiy, which was now disputed hj the English
upon many occasious. The young ArmstTOng was active,
brave, and strong, and brought hocne from dnngeroua
adventures many tokens of decided success. Still ,the
ancient chief conceived, as it would seem, that his son
was scarce yet entitled by age and experience to be en-
trusted with the two-handed sword, by the use of whicli I
he had himself been so dt'eadfully distinguished.

At length, an English cbompion, one of the name oF {
Foster, (if I rightly recollect,) had the audacity to send
a challenge to the best swordsman in Liddeadale; and
young Armstrong, burning for chivalrous distinclion, ac-
cepted the challenge.

The heart of the disabled old i
when he heard chat the challenge w
ed, and the meeting fixed at a neu
place of rencontre upon such c
himself had distinguished by numerous victories. He
exulted so mucii in the conquest which he anticipated,
that, to nerve his son to still bolder exertions, he conferred
upon him, as champion of his clan and province, the cd-
ebrated weapon which ha had hitherto retained in hia '
own custody.

This was not all. When the day of combat arrived, i
the Laird's Jock, in spite of his daughter's afiectionata
j-emonsti-ances, determined, though he had not left his bed
for two yeai-s, to be a personal witness of the duel. H13
will was still a law to his people, who bore him on their
shoulders, wrapped in plaids and blankets, to the spot
where the combat was to lake place, and seated him on s

nan swelled with joy
as passed and accept-
itral spot, used as the
and which lie

DEATH OF TBE LAIRD S JOQK. 295

fi-agment of rock, which is still called the Laird's Jock's

etone. There he remained with ejes fixed od the
barrier, within which the chaiopions were about U
His daughter, having done all she could for his a
dation, stood motionless heside him, divided between anx-
iety tor his health, and for tlie event of the combat to her
beloved brother. Ere yet the fight began, the old men
gazed on their chief, now seen for the first time after sev-
eral years, and sadly compared his altered features and
wasted frame, with the paragon of sti'ength and manly
beauty which they once remembered. The young men
gazed on his large fui-m and pon'erful maki:!, as upon
some antediluvian giant who had survived the destruction
of the Flood.

But the sound of the trumpets on both sides recalled
the attention of every one to the lists, surrounded as they
were by numbers of both nations eager to witness the
event of the day. The combatants met. It is needless
to describe the struggle : the Scottish champion fell.
Foster, placing his foot on his antagonist, seized on the
redoubted sword, so precious in the eyes of its aged
owner, and brandished it over bis head as a trophy of his
cjjnquest. The English shouted in triumph. But the
despairing cry of the aged champion, who saw his coun-
try dishonoured, and his sword, long the terror of thei'f
race, in possession of an Englishman, was heard high
above the acclamations of victory. He seemed, for an
instant, animated by all his wonted power ; for be started
from the rock on which he sat, and while the garments
with which he had been invested fell from his wasted
frame, and showed the ruins of his strength, he tossed his
arms wildly to heaven, and uttered a cry of indignation,
horror, and despair, which, tradition says, was heard to a

S96 VA^TEBLET HOTBI.B.

preternatural distance, and resembled the crj of a djiog
lion more than a human sound.

His friends received him. in their arms as he sank
utterly exhausted by the efForl, and bore him back to hia
lastle in mute sorrow; while hia daughter at once wept
for her brother, and eodeayoured to mitigate and soothe
the despair of her father. But this was impossible ; the
old man's only tic to life was rent rudely asunder, and his
heart had broken with it The death of his son had no ■
part in his sorrow. If be thought of him at all, it was I
as the degenerate boy, through whom the honour of hia |
country and clan had been lost ; and he died in the I
course of three days, never even mentioning hia name, I
but pouring out unintermitted lamentations for the loss of J
his noble sword. I

I conceive, that the instant when the disabled chief vraa I
roused into a last exertion by the agony of the moment is '
favourable to the object of a painter. He might obtain
the full advantage of contrasting the form of the rugged
old man, in the extremity of furious despair, with the
softness and beauty of the female form. The fatal field
might be thrown into perspective, so as to give full effect
to these two principal figures, and with the single expla-
nation that the piece represented a soldier beholding hia
son slain, and the honour of his country lost, the picture
would be sufficiently intelligible at the flret glance. If it
■was thought necessary to show more clearly the natur
of the conflict, it might be indicated by the pennon oi
Saint George being displayed at one end of the lists, ani
that of Saint Andrew at the other.

I remain, Sir, jour obedient servant,

The Authob 0*' Wateklbt,

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